


Split Perfections

by IceKat



Series: We Are One [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: AU/Canon Divergent, Action/Adventure, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Heavy Angst, No seriously Elissa is a salty boy don't read if you don't like angst, Not tagging a relationship because it's supposed to be a surprise, Romance, Slow Burn, Small plot twists, We're only gonna spend time on the gayness anyway, it's just angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 50
Words: 125,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21569506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceKat/pseuds/IceKat
Summary: Elissa is no hero. She's barely even deserving of the name Cousland. Her twin brother is the spitting image of their house—courageous, smart, and an unrivalled warrior—and yet she's the recruit the Wardens have been hunting for. Do they know who she is, what she is? Does she?Cross posted on Fanfiction.net! M for violence, language, and smut if I feel like it.
Relationships: Female Cousland/Leliana (Dragon Age)
Series: We Are One [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2169081
Comments: 80
Kudos: 192





	1. Prologue

_Fire. Red hot and dangerous, flickering and dancing. It was so beautiful, so_ strong. _She envied it, envied the fear it inflicted in man and beast alike. The world would be so much simpler if she could just...harness it for herself._

Tears welled in her eyes. Failure. Not once, not twice, but three times. Elissa had never failed anyone so spectacularly as she had now. The world was crumbling around her, and she couldn't keep up. How had she even found herself here?

Behind them, smoke rose above the trees. The scent of blood and death wafted through the air. Screams could be heard in the distance. All her life, she had been trained, raised, for battle, and when it finally came, she was so woefully unprepared. She was bleeding from so many small scrapes and cuts, she couldn't keep track. Her legs could barely hold her up; they were ushering her along, but she was almost incapable of walking, let alone jogging or sprinting.

Her eyes met Aedan's. Hard and expressionless, he wordlessly nodded her on. He was everything she wanted to be, everything she aspired to be. Strong, outspoken, brave. Elissa was all of those things, but Aedan had always been better, always been the favored of the twins. He was the perfect son to the perfect family, whereas she was the mistake.

And now, he was all she had.

Elissa had only been so scared one other time in her life. It was burned into her memory like an ugly scar. She could never forget, never pretend. It would always be there, ebbing away at her strength and energy even when it shouldn't.

"Hurry," came the urgent command. The voice was gruff, but not unkind. It belonged to Duncan, Commander of the Grey Wardens. "We cannot risk being caught."

Words failed her. Somehow she wanted to convey her lack of willpower, her desire for them to just abandon her to Howe's men. She didn't belong with the Wardens. She wasn't fearless. She wasn't a leader. She was barely anything other than a token for her family. Aedan was everything, and here she was, somehow being held up to his standards.

Elissa was far too devastated and scared to believe that Duncan had been at Highever for her. Not Fergus, not Aedan, not even the knight he was going to settle for, Ser Gilmore. He wanted to recruit her.

They were so lucky to have had Duncan there when they did. Aedan was far more adamant about staying behind than Elissa had been. And if Aedan had decided to stay and die, Elissa would've done the same. Duncan was the only reason they were alive.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Would this ever truly settle?

Elissa stopped as Aedan continued on. Behind them, their home was burning. Their friends were dying, their family being slaughtered. Everything she had ever known, gone. It had happened so fast. Everything from the last hour was blurred together. One minute, the entire family was gathered in Fergus' chambers. The next, Fergus was marching south and Howe was betraying them. And now, somehow by the grace of the Maker, she was standing here, following the footsteps of Highever's army.

Sam, Aedan's mabari, stopped with her, nudging her leg. A low whine rose from his throat, as if warning her of the dangers of hesitating.

Her eyes fell from the billowing plumes of smoke, down to the big brown eyes of the dog. The intelligence there never ceased to amaze her. He was wise beyond that of any human Elissa ever met, braver than any warrior, kinder than any mother. Sam was such a pure soul it threatened to make her break down in earnest.

Memories buzzed through her mind's eye. The first time her and Aedan had gone hunting alone. Their first time exploring the small forest between the highway and Highever. Climbing the smaller towers and the walls of the keep, looking out over the Waking Sea together. It had been marvellous, an astounding sight. It still took her breath away.

"Sister," Aedan called. His voice drew her back to the present and she took a step backwards toward him.

It was impossible. All of this, it was utterly insane. How had they let this happen?

* * *

"Come on!"

His laughter called to her, pulling her further and further from the soldiers and Fergus, towards the gate. Elissa raced after her brother as quickly as her legs would carry her. Men were drilling all around them. Sharp, deep commands crashed through the sounds of metal on wood. It was all so fascinating, so alluring.

She longed to stay, to practice here, but Aedan was persistent. He wanted to show her something.

"Come on!" he begged, doubling back to drag her on. Wind tugged at his curly hair, leaving him breathless but nonetheless excited. His grin was contagious, spreading to her own lips, and she couldn't help picking up the pace. His energy, his excitement, it was infectious.

He was growing again, Mother said, and would quickly be too strong for her to wrestle with, but she was still faster. She jumped past him, giggling as they weaved through the guards. Aedan hissed in annoyance, putting on a burst of speed, but still, she remained in the lead. It was so easy to outrun him; all she had to do was concentrate on that little bundle of energy that was almost just out of reach.

She was sure she could keep up with him wrestling too, if it came to that, though Elissa doubted their mother. She didn't know what Elissa could do, what she was capable of. She was just mad Elissa didn't want anything to do with being a proper lady, a fact their father was all too pleased with. He once said he reminded her of one of their ancestors, Haelia Cousland. Loud and rambunctious, and happy to be "one of the boys."

Elissa had taken that compliment with pride. After all, it wasn't everyday someone told her she was not too different from the woman who ended the lycanthrope plague.

As she slowed, Aedan barrelled straight into her back, knocking them both to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Her chin snapped off the cobblestone and pain shot through her jaw.

* * *

"Do you think Fergus is safe?" Aedan whispered.

Elissa just blinked, hearing but not, eyes transfixed on the fire between them. Duncan had gone to hunt, leaving the two of them to their own devices, trusting they could figure out how to start a fire. Neither had spoken during the task, instead opting to sit on opposite sides and wait. In any other scenario, Elissa knew she would've been the first to actually attempt a conversation with her brother, but not now.

It had been a week, and they weren't even halfway to Ostagar, having to forgo the roads and highway in fear of Howe's men. Over the course of that week, Elissa had cried, sat silently, and forced herself to keep up without complaint. And while Elissa shut down, Aedan seemed driven by their father's demand for revenge. He threw himself to whatever Duncan asked of them, questioned him on the Wardens, just tried to pretend nothing happened.

Elissa admired him for it. She wished she could do that. She wished Oren's little body wasn't burned into her dreams.

A hand curled around her arm gently, pulling her back. "Elissa?"

"Yes," she said, voice cracking. Her throat was drier than sand. She had hardly spoken since they first escaped Highever. It didn't feel right to talk.

"How do you think Fergus is?"

She blinked again, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't want to think about it."

Aedan frowned, looking as if he was going to berate her with more questions, but he thought better of it, and just nodded. "I don't think I want to, either."


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh no."

Aedan's hand dropped down to his hip, reaching for his sword. His eyes met those of one of Loghain's soldiers. He was wearing fancier armor than Aedan was. It was mildly insulting; after all, he was the son of a teyrn, and this _guard_ had nicer armor than he?

"What have we here? Grey Wardens?"

As the soldier stood, several other men followed suit, and he quickly realized they were outnumbered, even with Morrigan's magic.

"I think you're mistaken," Aedan said. "We're just refugees."

Several people inched their way closer towards the bar, trying to get away from the situation before it began.

"What refugee can afford such fine weaponry?"

Aedan gulped as his hand tightened around his sword. "We're just refugees," he repeated, almost begging for this to end.

"You're going to pay for your crimes against the king."

_What crimes?_

The sound of metal on leather interrupted his thoughts. Several swords were drawn as if on cue, as was his own, and both parties levelled their weapons at the other. The captain stepped forward first, but before he could raise his sword, a woman leapt between him and Aedan.

"Surely there's no need for trouble," she said. The way her voice lilted, like every word spoken was satin, he instantly knew she was Orlesian, and from the robes, a Chantry sister to boot. "They said it themselves. They're no more than poor souls looking for safe harbor."

"We spent all morning asking around for this man," another soldier snapped. "No one said they'd seen him."

"Take the Wardens into custody," the captain snarled, shoving his way past the sister. "Kill the rest."

His sword came around in an arc so quickly it almost caught him off-guard. Aedan caught the blade on his own, sliding them down to lock in place just long enough for him to struggle his shield into place. He ripped his arm back and lunged forward, ramming the man in the chest. He staggered and Aedan retreated behind his shield.

Chaos erupted around them, but he only saw their leader. He trusted Elissa and Alistair to hold their own, and he was relatively sure Morrigan could protect herself. She was a mage. Magic and mages in general were supposedly so terrifyingly powerful he had no doubt she would be fine.

Once the captain recovered, he came at Aedan again, this time more organized and careful. They swapped blows—back and forth, and back and forth—for several minutes, testing their waters, before Aedan erupted in a flurry of strikes and parries. He struck for the man's head, and as he went to block, Aedan switched directions. His sword fell for his ribs, ripping through the cloth and leather protecting his side effortlessly.

And almost as quickly as the fight began, it was over.

He cried out as he fell, clutching the wound. "I surrender!"

Aedan hesitated, sword poised to strike, as his men immediately followed suit, throwing their weapons down in a ridiculous fashion.

"Good," the sister said. "There's been enough bloodshed."

"They attacked us!" Elissa snapped. "I say we just kill them and be done with it."

"For once, you say something sensible," Morrigan's reply came.

The sister's face contorted into one of disgust. "They have laid down their weapons. There is no point in killing them."

"I don't want more of Loghain's men finding us," Elissa retorted.

Aedan just sighed, shaking his head, as he straightened. He dropped the point of his weapon to the ground and stepped aside, motioning for the door. "Get out now before I change my mind."

The men scrambled, leaving their fallen comrade in favor of helping their wounded captain. Elissa's eyes met his, and he could see the hate boiling in them. "You can't let them go. They'll just bring more men after us."

"If that happens, then so be it," Aedan muttered.

The redheaded Orlesian seemed pleased with his decision, saying, "Thank you for sparing them."

Upon better inspection, Aedan noted she had blood on her, and that the man who did die was closer to her than any of them. Had she killed him?

No, there was an oddly shaped hole in the center of his chest. It must've been Morrigan.

"My pleasure," Aedan replied sarcastically.

She blinked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. She glanced to Elissa, but before she could say anything, Elissa stormed out after the soldiers, and Morrigan seemed more than happy to follow.

The hurt and confusion in her face made him soften. "I'm sorry," Aedan said. "Thank you for helping us."

She eyed him warily, but smiled. "You are welcome. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters here in the Chantry. Or I was."

"Was?" Alistair asked.

"Those men said you are Grey Wardens, yes? You fight darkspawn?" The two men exchanged looks. Alistair looked about as confused as Aedan felt, but they nodded. "You're going to need help then, no? That's why I'm coming along."

"Uh...pardon?"

She hesitated, hands wringing together anxiously before saying, "That...and the Maker wants me to go with you."

Aedan just blinked, confused, while Alistair laughed. It was nothing more than a nervous chuckle, but Leliana's face reddened immediately. What the hell did that mean?

His mouth moved, but no sound came out. He was sure Elissa would've been laughing at him right now if she could; he probably looked like a fish out of water. It was utterly dumbfounding, what this sister was suggesting.

"You...what? Can you elaborate?"

Leliana looked uncomfortable, clearly regretting sharing that bit of information. "I..." She stopped, then said, "This is going to sound crazy, but...I had a dream. A vision! It's true!" Out of the corner of his eye, Aedan could see Alistair getting more and more nervous, as if afraid she was going to attack them if they disagreed. "Look around. All the people suffering, the death...this is not the Maker's will. It is not His doing."

The dead body in the middle of the tavern floor wasn't going to help Aedan's case if he argued.

"What you're doing... It's the Maker's work. Let me help you."

Alistair leaned forward, whispering, "I thought we were full up on crazy."

Aedan didn't comment, instead looking back to Sister Leliana. She didn't look too dangerous, but the dagger on her belt was stained red, dripping someone's blood onto her robes and the floor. She could fight, even though he wasn't sure how well.

"Very well. Welcome aboard, Leliana."

She broke out in a triumphant grin, saying, "Thank you, Warden."

He waved a hand. "Aedan. Just...Aedan. This is Alistair." She nodded, committing the names to memory, and he added, "Morrigan's the rude one and Elissa's my sister." At his feet, Sam decided to finally make his presence known with a loud whine. Aedan patted his head. "This is Sarim. Sam for short."

Another nod. "If you'll allow me to gather my things, I will meet you at the Chanter's Board in ten minutes."

* * *

Elissa slipped to the back of the group, falling in beside Aedan as Alistair led them towards the edge of the village. Aedan wasn't eager to talk; he suspected she would just harass him about letting the soldiers go.

"You're bringing her with us?" Elissa hissed, gesturing to Leliana. "She's _Orlesian._ Do you know what Father would say about that?"

Aedan swallowed deeply with a sigh. "In case you haven't noticed, Father's not here. He's not _going_ to be here, Elissa."

That struck a blow. She paused for only a second, but it was enough. He hit home. And not just for her, but for himself too. Never had the two of them been trusted with much of anything—it was all left to Fergus—Elissa even less so than him. She was the youngest, technically, and a woman to boot. Their parents hadn't been able to agree on what to do with her, either, with Father perfectly content to allow her to train with her brothers, whereas their mother wanting her to grow up into a proper lady.

Aedan was barely given command of the castle. Now they were here, the newest Grey Wardens, and trying to stop a Blight.

He hadn't even thought about it. The Blight. Maker, it was a terrible task set out before them. How were they even supposed to do anything? Use their treaties? Would it even be enough?

"Aedan, I don't think bringing her would help."

He frowned as he realized he was firmly staring at the back of Morrigan's head. "We're not exactly in the position to be turning people away."

Elissa just sighed. "I suppose so. I'm just...not...thrilled about having an Orlesian here."

"Father wasn't against Cailan trying to make piece with them."

"Still," she said. "What if she tries to kill us?"

Sam barked, running back to Aedan with a scrap of cloth lodged firmly in his teeth. It looked like a glove, but before he could take it off him, Leliana was there, wrangling it from his mouth. She briefly looked at them, offering an apologetic smile, before returning to Alistair's side.

Sam just looked at them, looked at her, and barked again, rather pleased with himself for having stolen the item.

"I don't think we'll have to worry about it," Aedan said softly, urging his dog back behind him.

As they crested the small bridge, Aedan caught sight of two men throwing the dead body of the soldier into the creek below. Something about watching the body slowly float downstream was depressing.

Aedan had never killed a man before Howe attacked them. He'd never seen a dead body, but now, it seemed he couldn't escape them. It was...unnerving. The looks on men's faces when they realized they were about to die... Aedan pushed the thought from his mind immediately, threatened by the prospect of losing his breakfast.

"I miss them," Elissa whispered.

He hadn't even noticed she had stopped with him. She was standing right there, hand resting on the stone, watching the same sight as he.

"Me too," Aedan agreed.

Fergus would know what to do. He always did. When Elissa fell from a tree and broke her arm, Fergus was the one to carry her home and to the healer. When Aedan got in a drunken fight at the bar one night, it was Fergus to come carry him home, too. Whenever there was a problem, Fergus always knew how to fix it.

Aedan swallowed. He could be that. Fergus didn't appoint him as his second-in-command for nothing. Father wouldn't have trusted him with the castle if he didn't think he could handle it. He was Aedan Cousland, not Fergus Cousland's little brother. He was capable of leading, of making the hard decisions, capable of acting when no one else in Ferelden wanted to.

And if the first was choosing whether or not to allow Leliana to tag along, then fine. He could handle that. It was easy; how were they going to stop the Blight with three Wardens, Morrigan, and a dog? It would be impossible. Adding Leliana to that mix didn't exactly even their odds, but it was a start, and a good one at that.

Hopefully.

"Aedan!" Alistair's voice. They had dallied too long.

Their fellow Warden was waving them on, gesturing to something at the gate to the fields. Several men had gathered there. Farmers, mostly, but they had weapons. Small knives and shortswords, but weapons. Word must've gotten out while they had waited for Leliana to gather her things, say her goodbyes.

Aedan shouldered his way to the front of the group, Sam hot on his heels. He was not a small man, but the farmer staring him down was far taller and far broader. A life like this, stuck constantly fending for yourself and fighting off bandits, would do that to a man.

"There's a bounty out on you Grey Wardens," he said as Aedan stopped before him. "Traitors to the king. Left 'im to die."

He nodded. "I've heard something like that today." In the back of his mind, Aedan reminded himself that Cailan would've had to pass through here to get to Ostagar. And knowing the king, he was sure his foolishness would've gotten him out and about down here.

"We're just trying to pass through," Aedan said. "My friends and I had nothing to do with King Cailan's death. We just want to go north."

He shook his head. "That bounty would feed a lot of hungry mouths."

Several of the farmers nodded their agreement. Sam growled, lowering himself closer to the ground, and Aedan's hand flexed around the grip of his sword.

"Is it really worth it?" Aedan asked. "If we killed the king, wouldn't you think it'd be stupid to attack us?" The larger man didn't reply, instead looking around at his fellows, and Aedan continued, "The Wardens didn't betray the king. Whether or not you believe that is up to you, but we're leaving. Quietly. So please, do us all a favor and worry about your families instead. The horde is coming and we all need to go before the darkspawn arrive."

The farmer's face tore up as he debated with himself. His fingers flexed and Aedan's eyes shot down to the large hammer he carried. It didn't look like much, but if it didn't scare him, it wouldn't be doing much to stop any darkspawn.

Wordlessly, he stepped aside. "Get out of my town."

"Gladly."


	3. Chapter 3

Morrigan was strangely fascinating. She had a mysterious air about her, carried herself proudly enough to make any noble envious. She radiated...something that Elissa was jealous of. Was it the dark beauty, the confidence?

Or was it the power?

Elissa made a point of being at the center of camp when it came time to set the fire. She was always throwing her tent together in a rush, never sleeping in it in fear of it collapsing. Besides, it didn't add much comfort to an already awkward experience, and she could sleep without it for now. The snows hadn't began and despite the bitterness, the cold wasn't entirely unwelcome.

Again, she found herself the first "completed" with her tent. The structure was barely staked to the ground and she was headed towards Alistair, moving to help him carry a log into the center of the camp. He was rolling it across the grass with no small amount of effort.

"Here," she said, coming up beside him.

Brown eyes regarded her heavily. At Ostagar, Elissa had simply followed Aedan's lead, more than happy to allow him to make the decisions left before the group. At Lothering, she had done the same. Mostly. Save her fit about Loghain's men, Elissa had kept rather quiet then, and would've rather stayed that way now.

"I don't bite," she promised.

As a gesture of good will, Elissa made her way to the end of the log, intending to help him lift it. He watched, one eyebrow arched in bemusement, and sighed, shaking his head.

"Here I was panicking that this was all an elaborate plot between you and Morrigan to kill me." Elissa froze. Had he really thought that or was it just another of his tasteless jokes? Probably the latter. She couldn't be acting so cold. That just wasn't her.

Alistair cleared his throat and she blinked, tearing her eyes away from the knotted wood. She crouched down again, nodding once as Alistair crossed her. On his cue, they lifted the log. It was covered in smaller branches and covered in moss, leaving her holding onto it with fingertips. He just tossed it effortlessly on his shoulder and looked back, waiting for her to mimic him.

"I can get it if you can't—"

Something inside of her snapped. It felt like lightning was flowing through her veins, but suddenly, she was able to maneuver the log up.

Alistair shook his head, mumbling something that sounded sarcastic. He was walking; she was standing, and oh Maker, did the panic set in. Her entire body was practically buzzing—she felt like a swarm of bees was powering her. This trunk? She didn't even need his help. It was weightless now, whereas several seconds ago it was the heaviest thing she'd ever attempted to carry.

Elissa wasn't small, nor was she weak. She was a warrior. Her entire life was spent training, practicing, honing her skill with her sword and shield until only her brothers were her betters. Alistair had, however, chosen a rather large tree, and it was difficult for him, who was much bigger and stronger, and now it was just...nothing.

Nausea crept up on her as her mind swirled. No. This was not going to happen again.

"Elissa?"

Alistair's voice interrupted her. She blinked, bringing the camp back into focus, and realized she was standing there, holding her end of the trunk up.

She dropped it so abruptly he jumped. He was going to laugh and wave it off, she could see him starting to.

I need to hit something.

Her first thought was Alistair. He was the closest, but no, that wouldn't do. The next she saw was Leliana, but the Chantry sister was far too frail. She would break with one swing. Morrigan might put up a fight—it was an intriguing thought, but then...

"Sten."

The qunari Aedan had insisted on saving from his cage. Elissa hadn't been listening when they'd discussed his crimes, but she knew he murdered someone, and he was the largest man here.

There was no other thought, only that of expending this excess strength. Her muscles were aching, screaming, for release. They were on fire.

Morrigan. Fire. She was lighting it now. Red embers materialized in her hands and she leaned forward, simply blowing it into the kindling Aedan arranged. Sparks danced; had it not been magic, the flames wouldn't have taken, but it burst to life without complaint, sending embers and ash over her boots. Was her fire hotter than the fires they'd set?

Their voices broke through.

"—could've burned me!" Aedan was snapping.

"Do not be such a careless fool," Morrigan retorted. "If injuring you was my intention, I would have already done so."

The ground rushed up under her feet. It was all Elissa could do to stay standing, staggering back into her poorly erected tent. A silvery hue caught her eye as she stumbled and she jerked, throwing her sword aside as she caught herself.

Confusion welled. What was happening?

Out of the corner of her eye, Elissa saw Leliana watching her intently, disregarding the argument between Aedan and Morrigan. If she just didn't look at her, the sister's attention would probably go away, as it always had with Chantry folk.

Wordlessly, Elissa stepped past her tent to retrieve her weapon. There was some dirt on the blade, but aside from that, it was undamaged as it was ever going to be. Knicks had cropped up on the edges since fleeing Highever. It was to be expected, though, as any real combat would do that to any weapon. She returned it to its scabbard, resolving to sharpen it later.

She sat in front of her tent, setting the sword beside her, and drew her knees to her chest. Aedan was now busying himself and Alistair with setting up their cooking utensils, however sparing they were. One small pot that could barely cook enough to feed the three Wardens, let alone them and three other companions. Morrigan had suggested replacing it with something more fitting at Lothering, but that advice had gone through one ear and out the other, and she was currently sitting away from them at her own little campsite. It was just far enough to lend her the solidarity she so clearly desired, but close enough that either party could be upon the other in mere seconds should the need arise.

Sten was at the fire as well, using the light to clean and polish the sword Aedan had purchased for him. She remembered his displeasure at the gift, saying how it was "suitable" without any thanks or further remarks whatsoever. It was probably for the better; the qunari were a force to be reckoned with. She wasn't sure what had gotten into her, but now that she had seemingly relaxed, Elissa knew attacking him, let alone sparring with him, would be too dangerous for any of them here.

Sam was nowhere to be seen, which meant he was likely up to no good, harassing Morrigan. Aedan would undoubtedly hear about it later and Elissa was just glad she had managed to stay out of the witch's ire for the time being. Any conversation she was part of was unpleasant to listen in on, nevermind being her target. Poor Alistair.

And Leliana, she was... Elissa sighed, turning slightly away as the woman sat next to her. For several minutes, the redhead was quiet, simply sitting, making it painstakingly obvious she didn't plan on moving.

A flicker of movement made Elissa rethink that, but no, it was just her taking Elissa's sword. Her eyes ran over the leather sheath with a surprisingly practiced eye. It caught Elissa's attention, but before she could take it back, Leliana pulled the sword loose.

"This is a fine weapon," she said in that lilting accent of hers. It made Elissa's jaw clench. "Did you steal it?"

Elissa scoffed. "Why is that the first thing to come to your mind?"

"Many of the Wardens in Orlais are...recruited after a crime," Leliana said. "Thievery being one of the most popular."

"Yes, well, be that as it may—" Leliana returned the blade to its holster and held it out, allowing Elissa to reclaim it. "—I didn't steal this. I've had it for years."

Leliana simply nodded, seemingly satiated for the time being, and Elissa set the sword in her opposite side, out of Leliana's reach. In the few short hours she had been with them, Elissa had come to realize that Leliana was anything but stupid, and everything she said and did was deliberate. Whether it was out of curiosity or a desire to be annoying, the sister had chosen Elissa as her newest target.

They sat in silence, Leliana watching the two men fiddle with their supper, and Elissa working to tune out the sounds of the camp. It would help, she thought, with the relaxing. Whatever that was, the energy, had come as abruptly as adrenaline and left just as swiftly, leaving her winded and scared. Leliana witnessing the end of the fit did nothing to calm Elissa's nerves, but she supposed she would have to deal with it.

As long as this didn't become a repeat occurrence, Elissa was sure her and Aedan's secrets were safe. No one here knew they were the last of the Couslands. If anyone here knew the significance of that name, it would be Alistair, and she doubted he did. He wasn't exactly the most intelligent man she'd ever met, though she wouldn't say he was stupid, either. He was somewhere in the middle, leaning towards the smarter side, but she suspected Morrigan would disagree.

And only Aedan knew what she was. He wouldn't speak of it. No one in the family had in years, preferring to ignore its existence, and by consequence, her existence as well. Did he even remember that night, that hunt that turned Elissa from prized, only daughter to nothing but a whisper?

How could he forget it? He went from forgotten middle child to perfect son overnight. Her downfall was his upbringing, and as much as it hurt her to say it, he belonged there more than she did. Aedan was everything Fergus was, just younger. Elissa wanted so desperately to be that, but she couldn't, and instead settled for assuming the role Aedan had since their birth.

She loved her parents, but Maker, had they struggled with the three of them.

"Do you want help with your tent?" Leliana asked.

"Do I...what?"

She giggled, but Elissa's expression killed the amusement almost instantly. "Your tent. Do you need help putting it up?"

Elissa glanced back over her shoulder. The cloth was sagging against the branch holding it up, flimsy and pathetic, rather than taut and secure. It was a sad sight; it probably didn't add up with Leliana's apparent ideas of what Grey Wardens were, but she appeared genuine enough, and it would be nice to actually know what she was doing.

"Knock yourself out," Elissa said as she stood.

Leliana followed suit, first ripping the entire structure down in about three seconds flat. If a Chantry sister could manage that, it wasn't going to hold up against any winds or storms.

The branch Elissa selected was immediately discarded, thrown into the pile of firewood while Leliana sorted through it for a more suitable stick. Once she was satisfied, she returned to Elissa, holding out two, shorter branches that barely matched the length of the first.

"If it's too high, the wind will catch," Leliana explained. Elissa just nodded, accepting the small cord Leliana passed her. "Tie them like this—" She demonstrated, deftly using the leather scrap to weave the wood together. "—so it is sturdy." She separated them, saying, "Try it."

Determined to not look like a bigger idiot than she already did, Elissa settled to replicate Leliana's actions. It took several attempts and Leliana showing her again several times before Elissa tied them up to her expectations. Once that was complete, Leliana produced a small dagger from the folds of her cloak and sharpened the end of the bottom. It was planted firmly in the ground, and then the tent itself went overtop.

"I can handle it from here," Elissa said.

Amusement sparkled in Leliana's eyes. Intense blue pools, they reminded Elissa of the Waking Sea. "Are you sure, Warden?"

Elissa swallowed, averting her gaze, and nodded. "Yes, I'll manage."

The Orlesian lingered a moment longer, inspecting Elissa as she shoved the stakes into the ground. She hoped Leliana would take the hint, leave her be, and Maker be praised, she did. As she returned to her own tent, Elissa paused, and then said, "Thank you."

To her credit, Leliana didn't do or say anything to acknowledge the thanks, but when she sat, Elissa could see the small smile gracing her lips.

Once Elissa deemed her tent satisfactory, she busied herself with moving her meager belongings inside. She had a small pack they'd purchased in Lothering and her sword and shield. In the pack was a whetstone and a cloth, a roll of linen to be used as bandages, a few leaves of elfroot, and two strips of jerky. She had bought the jerky herself with the coin she'd scavenged of the darkspawn in the Wilds and intended to hide it from the others; they were small, nothing but snacks, and Elissa wasn't keen on sharing.

The inside of her tent wasn't nearly as nice as the outside, but she could make it work. The more coins she gathered, the more blankets she could purchase. A blanket was at the top of her list and would likely remain there until she found a decent one. As for now, any would do.

But until then, Elissa laid her shield at the front of her tent, wrapping it in her cloak, and set her sword beside it. Proud of herself for allowing Leliana's help and grateful for it, Elissa returned outside, surprised by the sight of the cart wheeling towards their camp. It was led by two very familiar dwarves and an ox—Bodahn Feddic and his son, Sandal.

As they left Lothering, they had found the two merchants under attack from darkspawn. Sandal wasn't...right and it had basically been Bodahn fending for the two of them, but their party made short work of the beasts. Aedan had offered them a place in their entourage, one Bodahn graciously turned down, but here he was.

Elissa watched as Aedan approached them, watched the deal being struck. They clasped hands, shaking once, and she smiled internally. It would be nice to have them, even if it was just for business purposes. Wherever they went for the treaties, the dwarves would be sure to stock their wares, and offer things they would've otherwise forgotten on their own.

It was a small improvement, but an improvement nonetheless.

Whatever they were discussing now, she didn't bother to concern herself. Elissa joined Alistair as he began producing their bowls, scooping a suspiciously brown concoction into one for himself. Already wary of his cooking from one prior experience, Elissa elected to wait for Leliana and Morrigan's verdict on the meal.

She wasn't sure what she expected, but Morrigan's insults were definitely one of them. After resigning herself to another bland meal, Elissa settled against their only seat to listen to the others talk.

"Alistair, do you, ah...have any experience cooking?" Leliana asked.

The man's cheeks flushed. "None at all," he admitted sheepishly. "Well, no, but—"

"Let's just stick with no," Elissa interjected.

She shovelled a bite of the salty stew into her mouth, suddenly acutely aware of how hungry she was. It had been hours since they'd eaten, forgoing a meal in Lothering for keeping their distance on the horde.

At the thought of the darkspawn, her skin tingled as it often did. This wasn't the odd pressure she was recognizing as her feeling a darkspawn presence, but just a deep disgust with their current situation. She and Aedan had literally run for their lives only to be thrown to the wolves, yet again.

This time, though, Elissa didn't think anyone was coming to save them.


	4. Chapter 4

"This is fucking miserable."

Aedan's grunt of agreement was barely audible, swallowed by the wind. Sometime during the night, a storm had blown over the coast and was now pushing its way across the south, blanketing them first in rain, and then snow as the day progressed. Not only was their equipment soaked, so were they, and now they were being frozen.

"I do not understand how you Fereldans put up with this," Leliana grumbled.

Elissa just snorted and wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders. It did not do much, and neither did her scarf. If anything, they both served to make her colder. She was, however, grateful she didn't have heavier armor. Aedan and Alistair were both stuck inside the cold metal. Sten didn't have much of anything, save his sword, but he wasn't complaining.

How Morrigan hadn't managed to freeze to death, Elissa would never know. She had even less than the rest of them did. Leliana only had a set of leathers she'd purchased for herself in Lothering—from the thieving merchant Aedan had attempted to set straight. Elissa had some light chainmail, tucked under a dark shirt, but was otherwise unprotected.

She had to fight for her own sword. It had taken weeks just to get her father to agree to it, and then she'd had to wait even longer for their blacksmith to forge it. She wasn't going to push for much else. Even her shield wasn't hers; it had belonged to a guard Howe's men had killed.

Aedan had the family sword. They'd saved it from the vault, along with their shield, and they seemed perfectly suited to him, so he kept them. The sword was old, probably too dull and battered to use, so he carried it strapped to his back. At night, Elissa would sometimes watch him clean it. He was so gentle, reverent almost, with that cloth it was almost ridiculous, but then, Aedan had grown up with a far better familial experience than she. He wasn't hidden away, forgotten about.

It wasn't her fault, but Elissa beat herself up for it anyway.

"Wait," Aedan said, holding his hand out for the others to follow.

He looked around, peering through the snow, and Elissa asked, "What is it?"

"Do you feel it?" Alistair's nod told her what it was.

Darkspawn.

Elissa reached for her sword, fingers tightening around the pommel. If they could sense the darkspawn, the darkspawn knew they were here as well. Rather than wonder why she couldn't also feel the darkspawn, she fell back alongside Morrigan. The few times they'd fought together, Elissa had taken it upon herself to defend the witch while she fought, however unnecessary Morrigan felt it was.

"I don't think they'll find us in this," Aedan called back, "but stay alert."

"Darkspawn?" Leliana asked.

He nodded, and while they walked, Elissa could see the Orlesian stringing her bow. "Keep moving. We should be safer once we find the forest."

That's where he was taking them. To the Dalish. None had suggested it; Alistair had recommended speaking with the Arl of Redcliffe, Eamon Guerrin, before anything else, and Elissa had agreed. He had history with the man from what she understood, what she could eavesdrop while he and Aedan spoke. Alistair was his ward, one he sent to the Chantry. Or had it been Alistair's decision? Elissa wasn't sure. All she knew was he was to become a templar before Duncan recruited him. If there was more to the story, she did not know.

Elissa would have preferred going as far north as possible. She didn't want to be caught by the darkspawn, didn't want to be this close to them whatsoever. She wasn't afraid necessarily, just smart enough to know that if Aedan was so set on combating the Blight, their best bet would be to avoid the horde.

So naturally, his plan was to get closer to the darkspawn. The elves would arguably be the closest to Lothering, which meant they would have to act quickly to get to them first. She knew that was his line of thinking. She understood her brother well.

Unfortunately, that would mean they'd have to be more vigilant as they travelled. More deserters and bandits would be about, prowling for easy pickings with the common folk, and more likely than not, be stupid enough to try and claim Loghain's bounty on them. And again, of course, the darkspawn.

Elissa just hoped this storm would keep them safe.

"Morrigan!" Aedan called. "Scout ahead and see how much longer it goes!"

The witch glanced at Elissa briefly, who stepped further back to give her room. She was a shapeshifter, some form of dark magic Elissa was none too keen on experiencing. Their first fight together, Morrigan had fearlessly thrown herself into the thick of it, transforming into a giant spider. Elissa had been as mesmerized then as she was now, watching Morrigan change into a small raven. It was so strangely fascinating, but it begged the question... Could she change into other people as well?

The thought of it all was as unnerving as it was transfixing.

Regardless of whether Morrigan could, it was a useful magic. She had steered them clear of danger multiple times already and Elissa had no doubt this time would be any different. She was wiser than most no matter her age.

Elissa remained in the rear, clutching her cloak ever tighter. Sten was only a few paces ahead of her, but with a gust of wind, he was all she could see of the group. If she got lost, Elissa would never live down that embarrassment, so she hurried ahead, slowing once she was parallel to the qunari. He looked down at her, shoulders hunched and shivering, and gave a grunt of disdain.

"You're from Seheron, yeah?" Elissa demanded. He simply quirked an eyebrow at her. "Isn't...it hot there?"

"Yes," Sten said.

"Then why the fuck are we freezing our asses off while you laugh at us?"

He grunted. "Because you are small and steel will do little to keep you warm in the winter."

Elissa just scoffed, pride wounded by his words. Sten was right and they both knew it, but they also knew that travelling unarmed and protected was dumber than this venture of theirs.

Besides, he just didn't like her. He didn't seem thrilled that Alistair and Aedan were the only other men in the group, with her, Morrigan, and Leliana being companions he would regularly have to rely on. He had made some remark about it to Leliana when she was quizzing him on what he'd done to that family of farmers. Something about women not belonging on a battlefield?

It didn't matter to her. If she didn't fit with her family, at least she fit here, in battles. Aedan was, without a doubt, a far superior swordsman than she, and she knew Sten was as well. Hell, Alistair was probably capable of knocking her on her ass, but Elissa was still skilled. With every waking moment of her life now being war, she felt she was more than capable of handling herself. The others were a totally separate matter, but she could fight. She was strong enough to fend off hurlocks—the darkspawn didn't seem to have the same regard for their lives as people did their own, which led her to believe they literally threw themselves into every fight fearlessly. And if she could handle that, she could handle whatever else the Maker might throw at them.

The archdemon, though, that was terrifying. It was so impossibly massive in her dreams. She had never felt so small. Not in Aedan's shadow, not in Fergus', nowhere. Even the ogre at Ostagar had felt small in comparison. How did someone kill a dragon anyway?

Movement flickered in the corner of her eye. Distracted, she didn't react as quickly as she normally would, and barely even had a grip on her sword when Sten shoved her to the ground. A hurlock came barrelling at him, shrieking at the top of its lungs, sword brandished high over its head. Sten drew his sword in a flash, steel glinting in the snow. The hurlock was on him before she could even get back up, but he cut it down so thoroughly she almost missed it from blinking. Black blood stained the snow. It was dripping from Sten's sword.

More screams broke out in the storm around them.

Elissa scrambled, shoving herself to her feet on numb legs. Her whole body protested at the jerkiness of the action. The cold left her stiff, but she'd be damned if that was going to stop her.

Somewhere nearby, a horn bellowed a warcry. Elissa ripped her sword from its sheath and spun in a circle. The wind gusted, threatening to throw her over again, tearing Leliana's briefly visible hair out of view. She couldn't even see Sten.

Panic. "Aedan!"

"Elissa!" Equally confused and scared, so faint.

She called out to him again, trying to follow the sound of his voice, but it was so difficult to hear over the wind. They would have been wise to wait it out. This was a terrible idea; they were going to get separated in the fighting, get killed alone.

"Aedan!" she yelled.

He yelled back this time, but it was broken and choppy, so far away. The sounds of swords clashing reached her ears and she ran, praying it would lead her to her brother. She threw caution to the wind, rushing forward with reckless abandon.

Her foot caught on something and she tripped, staggering, and falling into the snow. It got everywhere. In her nose, her mouth, her eyes. Elissa struggled getting back up, blinking furiously to clear her eyelashes of the offending substance.

Red. Red snow. Human blood. Her hands were covered in it.

_What?_

She turned, slowly. It was a body. It had to be. That had to have been what she tripped on. She didn't want to see it, didn't want to confirm her fears, but she couldn't stop herself from looking.

Cold, lifeless green eyes. Dead. She felt her heart stop, and then she screamed.

* * *

Elissa woke with a start, looking around wildly, spinning, until her surroundings came into focus. Light brown, tan almost, dark brown and metal. Her tent. She was in her tent.

Confusion coursed through her body, followed quickly by fear. Her heart was pounding so rapidly she thought she would die. It was all she could hear. The unsteady, rapid thumping of her pulse in her head. Or was that a headache from holding her breath?

Elissa put her face in her palms, sucking in a deep, clear breath. In, hold, out. In, hold, out. The same tried and true method to calming oneself, one she often practiced to keep from lashing out. It kept her safe all these years. It wouldn't fail her now.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there. Minutes? Hours? All she could think about was getting herself under control, relaxing. This was not what she needed right now, much less Aedan, or the rest of their companions. None of them needed to see her like this. They didn't need to see what the nightmares could do.

Once she had regained some composure, Elissa found her cloak, wrapped up around her shield, and headed outside. The wind was gentle, far more forgiving than that of the dream, and it was warmer. No snow, no rain, just the soft breeze of Ferelden's southern coast. The air was crisp, smelled of the forest they found themselves camped in. It felt good in her lungs.

"Ah." Aedan's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. He was sitting on the ground, Sam's head in his lap, at the fire pit with Leliana. "Hello, sister." If they were on watch, it was almost dawn. Elissa's shifts with Morrigan were the first. Alistair's and Sten's the second, with Aedan and Leliana third. They rotated them, mix and matched depending on who was tired and who wasn't, but Elissa still often found herself with Morrigan.

She thought back to Alistair's comment a few days prior. He was nervous around her, the quieter, broodier of the two siblings, and took her for being similar to the witch. If having the same watch schedule as she would spare the rest of them, then she figured it was the least she could do to make it up.

Elissa simply nodded as she joined them. "Don't let me interrupt. It was just getting stuffy in my tent."

"You weren't," Aedan said. "Leliana was just telling me a story."

Elissa arched a brow, locking eyes with the woman. It was a warning if it was anything. A warning to back off, to leave him alone. It either went over Leliana's head, or she wasn't afraid of Elissa. Most likely a mix of both, but then, Leliana was either stupid or very confident in her abilities.

"What kind of story?"

"One of love," Leliana said. Oh, that tone, Elissa knew what it was, but she tried to not let her irritation show. Leliana was pushing her buttons again. It was something only she seemed interested in doing—Sten didn't say much to anyone, as did Morrigan, and Alistair preferred to avoid her altogether. She didn't interact with anyone, partially by choice, partially because she just didn't have it in her to care. Most times, she found herself wrapped up in her own crisis, or mourning her family, the same she resented so much.

"I can start at the beginning if you would also like to hear it," Leliana added. "It's very beautiful."

Elissa inclined her head. Perhaps it would be better to humor her, if for no other reason than to please her brother. He wanted everyone to get along, which was another reason she avoided socializing. Her temper since Highever...Maker, it was almost non-existent.

"A long time ago, there lived a fair maiden called Alindra. She had many suitors, but she spurned them all, for she did not love them."

Aedan elbowed her and whispered, "Sounds like you." Elissa barely chuckled. She did not want to think about that. Any of it.

"One day, Alindra was sitting by her window in her father's castle, singing and dreaming, when her lovely voice caught the attention of a young soldier. Entranced by her song, the soldier drew near to Alindra's window. As their eyes met, he fell in love with her, and she with him."

"I imagine her father wasn't pleased," Elissa remarked sarcastically, leaning forward on her knees.

"He was not," Leliana confirmed. "When she told her father who she chose, he was furious. Alindra was high-born, but her love was no more than a common soldier. To keep them apart, he locked Alindra away in his highest tower and sent the soldier to the wars. Not less than a month later, word of her soldier's death reached Alindra. Alone in her tower, she wept for her love and beseeched the gods to deliver her from this cruel world. So earnest was her plea that the gods themselves were moved. They gathered Alindra into their arms and lifted her high into the heavens, where she became a star."

Leliana paused and lifted her arm, pointing. "There. You can see her there." Elissa tried to follow, but was lost, and Aedan seemed equally confounded.

"The gods also raised up the soul of Alindra's soldier, and there he dwells, across the horizon from her. The band of stars between them is a river of Alindra's tears, cried for her lost love. They say when Alindra has cried enough, she will be able to cross the river to be reunited with her soldier."

"I wouldn't say that's a love story," Elissa said.

"It's very sad," Aedan agreed.

"Yes, but it is heartwarming. How often do you hear of a love so strong it moved gods?"

Aedan and Elissa shared a look, and he said, "I suppose so."

The three of them fell silent, which Elissa was grateful for. She was still tired, still trying to process the nightmare that had roused her so easily. It had felt so real. She felt like she was there, snapping at Sten and being beaten up by the snowstorm. It wasn't like any other dream. Well...not...dreams she had often, anyway. It had just been quite a while since Elissa had experienced them, though that one was surprisingly tame in comparison.

Elissa had always been good at suppressing it. Most days, she could pretend it didn't even exist. She forgot about it as the years went on, pushing it so far back she was sure she was just repressing it entirely now. Aedan had forgotten too, but never Fergus. Never mother, or father. She was their secret, the bad apple of the bunch.

But Aedan had never treated her any different, despite the role swap when she spoiled herself. As the only daughter born to the Couslands, she was always made a fuss over. And then... _it_ happened. That damned day. Elissa had fucked herself over. She had only been nine, but it was still her fault. How could it not be?

Aedan went from just another boy to something her parents tried to mould into the perfect son. Sure, Fergus was the eldest and always had that above either of them, but they threw themselves into Aedan with a fire Elissa would never see in them again. Not until Howe betrayed them, and then suddenly, Elissa wasn't forgotten, she was loved, but there were no apologies, not even when her father had been lying in a pool of his own blood.

It made her bitter to think about. A sour taste filled her mouth, but she pushed the thoughts aside. Elissa was better than that. She knew forgiving them would make her happier, but she just...couldn't. Years upon years of trying to live up to their expectations, of trying to claw her way out of Fergus and Aedan's shadows, she was just proud for not hating her brothers as much as she hated their parents or herself.

"Are you going back to sleep?" Aedan asked quietly.

Elissa blinked, but shook her head. "No. Bad dreams."

His eyebrows furrowed. Just by the look on his face, she knew he understood. They hadn't talked about it since fleeing Highever. They hadn't talked about it in years, since before then. She hadn't thought about it, and she doubted he had.

"Like...before?"

Elissa just nodded, a grimace forming on her lips. "I saw you dead."

Aedan sighed. "It'll be all right." He patted her shoulder, muttering an apology of sorts to Leliana. It was some excuse about their childhood. Hadn't he told anyone where they were from?

But then, why was she hiding it? Why was she hiding who she was, what she could do? She was a Grey Warden fighting the Blight. Who was going to come after her? Who was going to persecute her? What more could possibly go wrong than what already had? Hell, if she and her father hadn't been so disgusted, he might still be alive.

"I'm a mage."


	5. Chapter 5

Red hot pain lanced through her arm, startling her out of her nap. Elissa didn't remember dozing off, but if Morrigan had a problem with it, why didn't she just rouse her earlier?

Oh. _That_ was why.

A tingling sensation ran down her spine with chills racing right after it. Elissa was awake immediately, shoving the remnants of sleep away as she leapt to her feet. Her sword was in hand the same instant.

She could hear them rustling in the tree line. They had camped here only a few hours prior, deciding to rest before heading into the forest in search of the elves. Aedan had been worried they might run into trouble, and that feeling of his proved to be correct. It just wasn't where he was expecting.

The first of the darkspawn, a hurlock, came barrelling at her faster than she expected. It jumped from the shadows and into the light, revealing its twisted, black skin at such an angle it looked more monstrous than it already was.

It charged and Elissa settled into a crouch. As it leapt, she ducked, swinging her sword along its calves, and knocking it to the dirt. She drove her sword into its back, yelling, "Aedan!"

Black blood squirted across her boots. It cracked and boiled in the fire, flaring, and she flinched. It emitted such a rotten odor Elissa feared losing her supper.

The camp erupted into action. As the others struggled to arm themselves, more darkspawn came at her and Morrigan. They swung their weapons wildly, trying to intimidate them, and oh, did it work. Elissa had never seen a real fight before Highever, much less killed _anything._ To her, the darkspawn were terrifying. She was sure they were terrifying for the others as well, but they truly were the stuff of nightmares.

A spell whistled past her, slamming into the closest genlock. Ice blew out from its chest, striking another, but the darkspawn kept coming, jumping fearlessly over their fallen comrades. Fear settled in Elissa's gut. Would this ever get any easier?

She swallowed what little courage she could muster, forcing her heart to slow itself. As it did, she felt as if the entire world followed suit. She could see every ember being thrown about by the campfire, every detail on that hurlock's ugly face. Every scratch on its armor, every mark on its exposed belly, every notch on its dull sword.

And then everything snapped, and it was upon her in the blink of an eye. It shrieked, swinging its sword in an overhead chop, one she barely deflected. Now she felt slow, sluggish even, and staggered under the weight of the blow. Emboldened, the hurlock pressed his attack, forcing her back. He was strong, far stronger than she. It was humiliating. She was so disoriented; it was toying with her.

Again, there was that snap. Elissa's vision came back into focus, her mind clear. It was like waking up all over again. When the hurlock swung next, she was there, blocking the blow, and darting away to regain her composure.

_What's happening to me?_

Her hurlock didn't give her the chance. It jumped straight after her. They swapped blows for several, tense seconds. Wherever she attempted to strike, it blocked. Wherever it struck, she blocked.

Something behind her. She didn't know how she knew. Instinct? Gut feeling?

Elissa ducked as another sword crossed overhead, sinking into her attacker's chest. Another hurlock, trying to sneak up on her, and failing miserably.

Her new assailant screamed as its axe got lodged in the other's collarbone. More blood, on her hands and cheek. Dull gold, almost bronze armor. Taller, bigger. It was an alpha, probably the leader of this pack of darkspawn, and Elissa was now its target.

While it was stuck, she drove her sword into its ribs, slipping the blade through a chink in the plating. The blood was everywhere now, squirting over her clothes as she tried to pull her sword free, but it was lodged in him. She swore it was in her mouth; it tasted vile, worse than the concoction she drank during her Joining. Worse than her own blood when it punched her in the jaw.

Elissa saw stars. The alpha threw her aside as she scrambled, blinded and confused. Struggling back to her feet, Elissa practically kicked her sword back up into her hand. She couldn't do that again if she had tried, but it saved her life. Her fist closed around the hilt as the alpha ripped its axe free of its charge, swinging around in an arc. Elissa brought her sword up and blocked the blow, the force of it ringing throughout her body.

A genlock ducked under the axe, running to its leader's defense. All it carried was a small dagger. Before it could even get close enough, though, she jumped back and struck, rending its head from its shoulders. The alpha came at her again, seizing its opening, and raised its axe overhead in a mighty chop.

Aedan came out of nowhere. He leapt between her and the weapon, throwing his shield up. The axe sunk into the wood and it split. Aedan cried out as the blade cut into his forearm, straight through his armor.

The last thing Elissa remembered seeing was his blood. She flew into a rage, shoving her way under the handle and into the darkspawn's side. They toppled in a mess of limbs, but it buried a foot in her ribs and kicked her off. It got to its feet first, unharmed, and she sputtered, unable to breathe. Her head was pounding, her lungs were aching. Something had to have been sprained, cracked, broken. Elissa was struggling to even push herself away from the beast.

Her sword. He was wielding it now. She was going to get killed with her own weapon, wasn't she?

It stepped over her, sword poised to strike, much like she had done to the first hurlock that attacked them. Their eyes met, and for the first time, Elissa understood. Dark, almost black pools shining in the firelight. It was as intelligent as she. It knew what it was doing, what evil it was commiting.

An arrow struck it. Punched straight through the chestplate, right in the middle. Another, this time in the throat. Elissa craned her head back and saw Leliana, stepping past a body as she readied another shot. It hit the same point as her first arrow and the alpha staggered. Elissa's sword fell into the grass and without a moment of hesitation, she shoved the beast to its knees and decapitated it.

All around her, it was chaos. Alistair was beating a genlock into the dirt. Sten was fighting three monsters on his own, and _winning._ Morrigan was nowhere to be seen, but Elissa knew she was there, preparing to strike somewhere.

It wasn't necessary. They had survived the ambush. Many darkspawn lay dead around her feet, too many to count. The smell of their bodies and blood was overwhelming enough she had to bite her tongue to keep from throwing up. She bit hard enough that her mouth was filled with that coppery taste again.

_Aedan._

Elissa spun, eyes focusing on her brother's crumpled form. Sam was at his side, snout resting in the crook of his arm. His fur was splattered with strange spots and his breathing was uneven.

Her heart was beating wildly as she ran to his side. Aedan was favoring his arm, cradling it close to his chest, face twisted up in an unpleasant expression. Recognition soon replaced the pain, however, as he grinned up at her.

"How's that for saving the damsel in distress?"

Elissa managed to laugh, running a hand down her face in disbelief. He laughed with her and she helped him up, Sam whining the whole way. The mabari stayed firmly planted at his master's feet, giving Elissa a dirty look while she inspected his wounded arm.

It was bleeding steadily. The metal of his gauntlet had bit into his flesh when the axe cut through. He was already looking sickly, as if he lost a lot of blood, but before Elissa could say anything, Morrigan shoved her away, muttering something angry under her breath, before sitting Aedan down to nurse his wounds.

She was scolding him for something. Elissa could hear the witch's voice, but couldn't hear what she was saying. She was so lost in the warmth of the light coming from her hands, so entranced. It was a healing spell, one Elissa had been on the receiving end of a week ago, but it wasn't any less fascinating to her. That could be her there, healing her brother, instead of Morrigan. She could be the one patching them up after fights instead of the witch. She could be the one yelling at the others for being idiots and getting hurt, rather than Morrigan. She could be the one contributing, and not the one caving under fear and pressure. She could be protecting herself, but here she was, needing her brother and Leliana to save her from one darkspawn.

Once Morrigan was finished, Elissa's eyes fell on Leliana, who was tending to her own, far less severe injuries. A small scratch on her jaw, wiping the blood away with a cloth. She was looking at her too, right through her.

Leliana knew, too. Leliana knew what Elissa was hiding.

Elissa swallowed past a lump in her throat and looked away, sitting so solidly in the dirt that her head throbbed in protest. Morrigan descended upon her next, rubbing a salve into the cut on her cheek—she didn't even remember it happening. At the woman's prodding, Elissa attempted to raise the hem of her shirt. Pain arced through her side and she bit her tongue again. She had forgotten the alpha kicked her.

It must've been harder than she realized. When Morrigan finally wrestled Elissa's hands away, she revealed a black bruise. It only just happened, but it was spreading across her stomach rapidly. Again, Morrigan prodded, being none too gentle. Elissa winced.

"Are you _trying_ to break my ribs?"

"Be silent," Morrigan hissed.

Elissa clenched her jaw. Part of her wanted to make a snide comment back, but speaking hurt almost as much as breathing, and she would rather not. Instead, she settled in and resigned herself to Morrigan's harassment, watching as the others tried to tidy up what they could.

"We can't stay here," Alistair was saying. "More darkspawn will probably come sniffing when their buddies don't return."

"I agree," Sten said.

Aedan was nodding, hand rubbing over his forearm. He scowled, as if still in pain, and then said, "We need to find the elves. Hopefully, the darkspawn will think twice about attacking us if we're surrounded by them."

As long as it got her away from Morrigan, Elissa didn't care what they did. If she had to feel her damnably cold hands one more time, she thought she might lose her mind.

"If you are quite finished squirming, I might be able to finish," Morrigan snapped.

Elissa grit her teeth again, looking away from the witch. Aedan was walking towards them. No doubt he had something enlightening to say. Some joke to make.

"You okay?" he asked, eyebrows knit together in concern.

"Yeah," Elissa said, nodding once. His politeness wasn't unnoticed, though she didn't expect anything different. Sure, he could be prone to joking with her, and was most likely hiding behind humor, but he always seemed to take her seriously nowadays. "Thanks. For saving me."

"That's what brothers are for, right?"

The faintest of smiles crossed her lips and she nodded again. Aedan returned the smile, albeit far less reluctantly than she, and followed Alistair to begin breaking down the camp. Elissa doubted they would stop before finding the elves now.

Oh well. At least she had gotten a short nap in.

Once Morrigan appeared satisfied, she stood. Elissa attempted to follow suit, but found her side still screaming at her, still sore and stiff. She swore under her breath, looked to Morrigan for help, but she was already gone. Figures.

Elissa took a deep breath, held it. She had gotten through worse; she could get up without help. Maker, it was hard, but she did it. Whatever Morrigan had done, it hadn't healed whatever was wrong with her side. Perhaps she had just checked to make sure nothing was broken? Elissa didn't know. Elissa didn't know how magic worked.

Though, as of late, she found herself growing increasingly curious. She had spent the entire day thinking of how to best bring it up with Morrigan, but had eventually decided Morrigan wasn't worth the effort. She didn't want to spend more time with the other woman than absolutely necessary, but then again, she didn't want to spend much time with anyone, regardless of who they were. Not even Aedan was the exception.

The most socializing Elissa had been part of was the night before, when she'd just blurted out her biggest secret like it was nothing.

But then, it had been freeing, hadn't it? It had been hounding her her entire life, always there in the back of her mind. Every time she got upset, she worried she would snap again, like she had when they were children. Every time she heard a voice in her dreams, she feared it was a demon, coming to possess her. Elissa was so damn afraid of magic and herself she hadn't once considered it might be useful.

A bitter taste rose in her mouth. No matter how useful her magic might be, for all she cared, it didn't exist. She had gotten it off her chest, at least to Leliana and Aedan, and now could go back to pretending it wasn't real. It had already caused her so much pain and suffering—she didn't want to go through anything like that again.

Elissa eventually managed to get to her feet, breathing surprisingly heavily. She hardly had the energy to stagger over to her tent.

And without being asked, Leliana was there, breaking it down and bundling it up for her.


	6. Chapter 6

The elves were anything but hospitable. Accommodating their needs to further their own interests, perhaps, but it wasn't hard for Elissa to see they couldn't care less about them. When they'd managed to get close to their camp, a patrol had caught them in the woods, arrows trained on every single one of them even though their weapons weren't drawn. Despite telling them they were Grey Wardens, the elves led them around with swords and arrows pointed at their backs. Despite flashing their treaties, begging for help, there was no trust here.

Elissa was none too happy about it.

They had outfitted Sten with his own armor, at least. It was good the qunari finally had some protection; it would be madness to go hunting werewolves without any.

The idea made her shiver. Being a Cousland, her and her brother were raised on tales of their ancestors fighting the lycanthrope plague. It was all too familiar. And as it seemed right now, it would be yet another of their family to put an end to that curse.

Elissa wanted to go. She didn't want Aedan in that forest by himself, surrounded by strangers with only Sam to protect him, but he insisted. He insisted she stay behind—Morrigan hadn't been able to heal her ribs, and neither had the elves. They were too preoccupied staving off the disease from overtaking their hunters, which she grudgingly admitted was probably fair. They were their own, and she was a stranger to them like they were to her.

Aedan, though, was far less suspicious than she. When Zathrian, the leader of this clan of Dalish, suggested taking a guide, Aedan had readily agreed. The elf had seemed reluctant to even mention it, but Aedan had no complaints. He didn't know this forest. None of them did. Having someone who did would undoubtedly be wise, but Elissa couldn't bring herself to trust them.

The Dalish might've armed Sten, but they had their own interests and needs, and she didn't doubt they'd go to any length necessary to achieve those goals. That was why she _had_ to go with him, just to make sure he was safe, but he wouldn't allow it.

He was currently packing up what little supplies they could afford to purchase while Elissa stood idly by, glaring at him. Aedan was aware of it, happy to ignore her, and she hated it. She loved her brother more than anything; he was all she had. She just couldn't stand the thought of being away from him, of him being in danger without her. They hadn't been apart since fleeing Highever, and now that it was actually happening, it made her anxious.

When he stood, she crossed her arms. Aedan regarded her heavily, expression set in a grim look. "What?"

"Let me go with you."

Aedan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're injured, Elissa. I can't let you come with us."

"That's bullshit," she snapped.

He stepped closer, whispering, "Please don't argue with me. I don't want to do this right now. I'm exhausted."

"Then _let me go instead,_ " Elissa retorted. "I feel fine."

For several seconds, he held her gaze, and she stood a little straighter, like she was being inspected. Aedan's stare was hard, cold. He searched her face for any signs of weakness, any sign of exhaustion.

Then his hand shot forward, grabbing her wrist. He lifted her arm to shoulder height and pain shot through Elissa's side. It took everything she had to keep from crying out. Angrily, she ripped her hand from his grasp, and he let her go.

"You're hurt," he reiterated. "You're staying here." He stooped, grabbing the strap of his pack, and turned to join their companions at the edge of the camp.

"Aedan—"

He spun wildly, towering over her, and for a brief second, Elissa realized how easy it would be for him to shut her up. "Don't 'Aedan' me. You're staying here, sister. I cannot bring you with us. You're in no condition to fight, and I can't have anyone relying on you. What if you get hurt? What if you get someone else hurt, or Maker forbid, killed?"

Her jaw clenched and her breath caught, but she didn't back down.

"What if you get yourself killed?"

When he said that, his voice fell. His expression changed from irritation to sadness and he stepped closer, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"You are the most capable woman I know," Aedan said, "but you're my only family, and I can't let you risk your life when you're already injured. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you."

"You think I don't feel the same way?" Elissa hissed.

His expression fell with his hands. Aedan swallowed, nodding, and turned away again. She had struck a nerve. "Stay here."

Aedan left, walking briskly to where their companions waited. Alistair leapt to his feet excitedly as Aedan spoke, but almost as soon as he did, he was crestfallen. The readiness and excitement instantly fizzled out. Aedan must've said something that upset him; he _argued._ Alistair never argued with Aedan. He was happy to follow his orders, his direction, but whatever he was saying now didn't sit well with their fellow Grey Warden.

And then, Leliana was saying something. Elissa's eyebrows furrowed as she watched the interaction, the three of them speaking quickly and low. At one point, Aedan looked back at her. He looked sad and guilt surged through Elissa even as anxiety pooled in her belly. It was her fault. She did this.

He looked back to Leliana and Alistair, nodded. Alistair said something, putting a hand on Leliana's shoulder. He was thanking her. She didn't seem nearly as upset as Alistair, who was now visibly relieved.

As soon as the Orlesian had her bow slung back over her shoulder, Elissa knew what was happening. Aedan was leaving her here to _babysit_ her. He had originally asked Alistair, who was quite obvious about his displeasure when she was involved in anything. He was polite, sure, because Elissa was as well, but they never spoke. He must not have been thrilled with the prospect of staying behind, either.

The anxiety in her gut was quickly replaced with annoyance. Aedan knew she didn't like Leliana. It was as plain as fucking day for any of them. Why the hell Leliana insisted on bothering her was Elissa's greatest mystery, but here she was, somehow Leliana's favorite person to talk to out of all of them.

Elissa felt like it was a curse.

* * *

"Uh...I don't like the look of that," Alistair muttered.

Before them was a cloud of smoke, swirling and powerful, concealing the path. Their guide, an elf named Silvhen, seemed surprised by this.

"This is the way to the heart of the forest," the Dalish said. He stepped closer, and then looked back to Aedan. "I am sure of it."

"Why so certain its where this Witherfang hides?" Morrigan questioned.

Witherfang. The leader of the werewolves. It was Zathrian's theory that killing him would break the curse and cure his hunters, thus freeing them to assist the Grey Wardens. He had been unsurprised at their arrival, claiming he sensed the evil brewing in the south. They would have fled had it not been for the werewolf affliction; they were unable to uproot so many sick and wounded elves, and Aedan, as unfortunate as it was, was glad they remained where they were. Had they relocated, it was possible Aedan wouldn't have been able to find them.

"Whenever we think we have the wolves, this is where they flee," Silvhen said. "The hunters have spoken of this, but...I wasn't prepared to see it for myself. It's like the forest is preventing us from going forward."

"It's protecting itself," Aedan said, "but we need to go on. We have to break this curse." The elf nodded, still fascinated. "Is there any way for you to dispel this, Morrigan?"

"I believe not. 'Tis far more powerful magic than even I am capable of."

Alistair scoffed. "You're being humble now?"

"Stop it," Aedan interrupted. He didn't have the energy for them right now. When he told Elissa he was exhausted, he had meant it. They had been running for well over a month now, from Howe, from Loghain, from the darkspawn. It was beginning to catch up with him, as he was sure it was catching up with Elissa as well. They rarely fought at home, but lately, all they did was disagree. It was undoubtedly a sign of such stress wearing on them, and even though he knew that, Aedan desperately wished it would change. He wanted, needed his sister back.

But she wouldn't let him in, and he wouldn't let her in. This was just the way she coped with things, he supposed.

"What do you think, Warden?" Silvhen asked. "Do we go through?"

Aedan swallowed his courage. The cloud looked angrier than he had felt only a few short hours ago. Light did not pass through, cutting the beams from overhead abruptly as they met. It was so violent, turbulent.

"We have to try."

* * *

Her stomach growled, but Elissa pushed the thought of hunger away. It wasn't anything new for her as of late. At Highever, she had never wanted for food, but since becoming a Grey Warden, she was _always_ hungry. Perhaps it was the heightened appetite, or perhaps it was just their lack of food every night. There was a good chance that it was just a mix of both.

Elissa was sitting as far away from the Dalish as she could. They were as polite as they could manage, a gesture she barely found herself capable of returning. Funny, how she was raised to be a well-mannered noblewoman, but turned into a rude apostate.

That was what she was, wasn't it? An apostate. It didn't matter that she was a Grey Warden if she became dangerous. The templars would hunt her like they did when she was a child. And this time, her father wouldn't be there to protect her.

She swallowed past a lump in her throat, tearing her eyes away from the halla to look at her hands. They were bare, unscarred from her years of safety. Aedan's didn't look anything of the sort; his hands were scarred, calloused. He spent every day of his life armored and training, whereas Elissa found other things to occupy her time with. As an adult, though, Elissa couldn't remember what many of those things were. Harassing Nan? Giving her parents heart attacks and disappearing for hours upon hours?

Training had been the only thing worth remembering. It was the only thing ever father ever complimented her on.

Elissa forced her thoughts down with her hunger. She looked to the halla, watching the beasts graze. They were quite beautiful. Resembling deer, the halla were hooved and antlered creatures, but that was where the similarities ended. They were white, graceful. They treaded so lightly it was like watching a breeze roll over a field of grass. It would be a crime to kill the animals.

Almost as if she was one of them, Leliana appeared at Elissa's side. She was so quiet it was unnerving, sitting just as softly as she came, and brandishing a loaf of bread to boot.

"Are you hungry?" Leliana asked.

Elissa looked at the bread with a critical eye, and then turned away. "No, thank you." She didn't want anything the woman was offering, regardless of how helpful she had been in the past.

Leliana didn't buy it, but didn't push, and sighed. Elissa glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, studying the woman as she too watched the halla. Her face was young, but was tired enough to tell she was just as stressed as Elissa was. Her hair was far too fiery and bright to be much older than she, and her eyes possessed a spark greater than her own. Such a clear, crystal blue.

Elissa jerked, reverting her attention to the halla.

"Have I slighted you?" Leliana questioned.

Confusion swelled, but Elissa tampered it, and said, "I'm sorry?"

"Have I done something to make you so hostile?"

Elissa allowed herself to look back at Leliana, eyebrows knit together. "You're Orlesian."

_Yes. Simplify your problems for her, Elissa. Good job._

"Is that all?"

Rather than potentially reveal more of her secrets to the woman, Elissa just nodded. It had felt good to admit she could use magic. It felt good to just say it, acknowledge that it was a real thing, and that she was far more dangerous than she looked. It felt good to not need to hide it anymore.

"If I make my dislike for you so obvious, why do you continue to bother me?" Elissa said. Her tone was casual, but the words were harsh, and she could see that much on Leliana's face as the woman flinched.

"Because you are young," Leliana said carefully. "You are younger than I, and yet you appear far sadder than I can understand. I just—"

"I don't need your pity."

"And I'm not offering it. I'm simply offering friendship to someone who appears to need it."

"Why? So you can kill me?"

Leliana just blinked, expression completely blank. "Why would I want to kill you?"

"Because you're Orlesian and I'm Fereldan."

Leliana, again, blinked, and just held Elissa's gaze. "Why would I want to kill one of three remaining Grey Wardens?" Elissa's eyes narrowed, but Leliana looked so calm, so patient, like she knew where this was leading. Elissa had been sullen and broody for as long as she could remember; she had plenty to be bitter over, had plenty of reasons to hate herself and hate her life. As a consequence of her poor coping methods, Elissa was quite standoffish, and very much unwelcoming. Aedan, however, was the exact opposite.

Elissa, well aware she was being unnecessarily harsh, both to Leliana and Aedan, and everyone else, didn't care. Aedan was the only one who deserved any of her time or energy. What had the rest of them done to be worth the air?

_Leliana saved your life._

"I do not know what's wrong," Leliana said. "But it is apparent there is something ailing you. You do not interact with anyone at night or during the day. It's not my place to worry, as I don't know you, but I do."

"Why?" Elissa demanded.

Leliana paused, seemingly startled by the question, and also unsure of how to answer. She looked away, and again, Elissa found herself staring, curious and scathing at the same time. How the hell does some Chantry sister know how to fight so well, shoot a bow with such precision to rival an elf? Who was this woman?

Then again, it was possible she hadn't always been with the Chantry. She was old enough to have taken her vows, but from what Elissa understood, she was just a lay sister, and had done no such thing. Perhaps she had seen things, been through things, as Elissa had. Perhaps she could understand?

Elissa shook her head. "You don't have to answer that. I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to think you have to be alone," Leliana said.

Maybe that would be good. Having a friend. Having someone to just talk to, even if they weren't necessarily close. Elissa hadn't truly ever had a friend outside of her immediate family, so she wasn't exactly sure how to go about such things, but it might make the Blight more bearable. Right?

"Thank you," Elissa said quietly. Leliana's eyebrow arched, and she added, "For teaching me how to pitch a tent and saving my life. For being far nicer than I deserve."

"Everyone deserves kindness," Leliana said. There was a lilt to her voice now, one Elissa recognized as relaxation. "And...you're welcome. For saving your life." Elissa let out a small smile, one that Leliana returned. "Are you sure you're not hungry? Aedan and Alistair both eat enough to feed an army. Alistair tells me it is something all Grey Wardens experience, not just them being men."

Elissa looked suspiciously at the bread, back to Leliana, and then back to the bread. "I'm starving."

Leliana's smile broadened. "It is good I already ate then, no?"


	7. Chapter 7

"We are in the heart of the forest now, Warden."

The elf's voice rolled from his mouth so fluidly it reminded Aedan of liquid silver. He had been there the day his sword was forged; watching the molten metal roll had been a fascinating sight. Had he not been the son of Bryce Cousland, Aedan could've seen himself as a blacksmith. It was honest, hard work.

He wondered how many hard, honest workers had already been claimed by the Blight, and he swallowed. At Lothering, Aedan had been unsure of himself, unsure of how to go onward and secure their treaties, unsure of how to be a Grey Warden in general, but Leliana and Sten's recruitment had given him some confidence. Their small quarrels with the darkspawn since fleeing Lothering added to it. And now, he was so close to securing his first ally against the darkspawn he could almost taste it. Whatever he was doing, it was working.

"Stay on your guard," Silvhen warned. "These beasts are not hesitant."

Aedan glanced at the gash in his armor. How the wolf's claws hadn't hurt him, he didn't know. They had clashed with the werewolves directly only once—the other few fights they'd run into were with...trees. And some weird old man, holding onto another tree's...seed.

Maker, but it was an absurd world they lived in.

That one fight though told Aedan enough. The werewolves were formidable opponents. They were far stronger than any man or darkspawn he had fought before, far more intelligent. They had been lucky to escape the battle unscathed. He would be thanking the Maker for the good fortune for the rest of his life.

Ahead, the path they followed swerved. It was hard to see around the bend. The trees loomed and the hills were high. It was getting dark; they had been in the forest for nearly an entire day. Aedan's thoughts drifted back to his sister. Hopefully Leliana was keeping her out of trouble. He didn't trust her to behave, regardless of whether or not they needed the Dalish as allies. Elissa didn't seem to care much for the darkspawn, and the thought unnerved him. But then again, she hadn't seemed to care about much in such a long time that it was far more concerning.

Aedan blinked, pushing the thoughts and his worry aside. This was not the time to think. About anything. They could be attacked at any second. He needed to focus.

Silvhen was only a few deer ahead of him, silver hair cascading around his shoulders in waves. The man was strangely beautiful. How anyone could hate elves, Aedan didn't understand. They were just so damn graceful, beautiful, the lot of them. It never made any sense. Why were people so hateful?

"Wait," he said.

Almost as one, the party stopped behind their guide. Sam and Alistair were hot on Aedan's heels, the latter of which he looked to in confusion. His fellow Warden simply shrugged, armor rustling loudly with the motion.

"See that?" Alistair whispered, gesturing to something in the treetops.

Faintly, if he really tried to see something, Aedan could make out a structure not too far away. It was almost like the forest was trying to reclaim it, it was so hard to distinguish. Vines and brush were wrapping through the branches above, but from what he could tell, the ruins stretched far overhead.

A twig snapped. Aedan jumped, startled, and drew his sword without a second thought. Alistair followed suit, equally unnerved, but Sten seemed content to wait. Silvhen didn't look as perturbed as the two Wardens, instead plowing onward at the sound, emboldened by curiosity.

Sam lowered himself to the ground, growling. He didn't like this. And if his dog didn't like it, neither did Aedan.

Cautiously, Aedan followed the elf, keeping his sword in his hand. If the werewolves chose to attack them now, he would be ready. He was listening keenly; every sound, he made sure he knew the reason for it. The snap of a branch—Alistair. The heavy breathing—Sam. The pounding in his ears was his own heartbeat, steady and calm. He worked hard to keep it like that in fights. It still wasn't a mastered skill, but it was a practiced one nonetheless, and someday it would pay off to be calm under pressure.

Silvhen rounded the bend before they did. He was so close, but yet so far. It happened so fast, Aedan wasn't even sure _what_ happened. The man screamed and a beast roared, and the next second, Aedan was there, impaling the werewolf on his sword.

But it was too late. In the rush, it had disarmed Silvhen, grabbed him by his throat. There was so much blood, so so much. Aedan's stomach churned at the sight, at the thought. Zathrian would not be pleased.

* * *

Once night fell, the Dalish camp grew unnaturally quiet. Many of the elves retreated to their land ships—the aravel, Leliana had told her. Her companion seemed to know...well, everything. Leliana had an explanation for every single thing they came across, and it was fascinating. Elissa always liked learning new things, but if she wasn't careful, Leliana would just return to annoying her. Elissa preferred peace to talking, and Leliana was prone to the latter.

Their meager lunch was all either of them could afford to purchase. The elves didn't seem too keen to share, either, but Elissa wasn't surprised. However bitter she might be at the way they were treated, it didn't surprise her. Humans had fucked over the Dalish so many times they deserved it.

Leliana seemed content to doze in the grass, covered by a thin blanket, while Elissa sat several feet away. She was growing impatient. It had been _hours._ It was likely they'd gotten lost several times, but that was the point of their guide, and Elissa hadn't expected Aedan to be gone this long. It was becoming unbearable, nerve-wracking. She had never enjoyed sitting on the sidelines, but this was something else. She was itching to move, to fight, to do anything.

Elissa could take a walk around the camp. Anything beyond that, and she risked getting lost. The Dalish wouldn't mind her exploring, probably just ignore her existence like they'd been, though she supposed it was better than them outright glaring at her. She didn't, however, want to leave Leliana by herself. The sister had more than proven herself capable, but Elissa would feel wrong for abandoning her. No matter how annoying she could be, Leliana seemed to have good intentions. She claimed she was trying to be friendly. Whether or not she was honest, however, would take time to prove.

For now, though, Elissa decided the explanation was enough. Just for now.

She hated this waiting.

Boredom had never been something Elissa handled well. There was always something to do at Highever, though it was typically beating someone into the dirt, or rereading the books in their library. She preferred the former, but she could settle for the latter as well. Reading had been a hobby of hers as a child, one she grew out of as Elissa realized her love of the sword. It had been a new item of interest, a new thing to master, whereas reading had been perfected so early in life she couldn't even remember learning it. Her skills as a swordsman could always, always be improved upon.

Elissa considered practicing her form. It wasn't much of anything; if there was anything she was good at, it was her form. She had mastered her preferred stance—hiding behind her shield and leaving her sword room to maneuver where she needed it to. In the few battles they'd gotten into, their enemies consistently appeared to have issues uprooting her unless she went on the offensive.

Maybe that was something she should work on instead, though she was unsure of how to go about it. Elissa wasn't about to ask one of the elves. Not only would they certainly refuse, Elissa hadn't felt particularly social enough to even converse with Leliana, much less a true stranger. At the very least, the two of them were on a first name basis. It was more than the majority of their band of misfits could claim, anyway.

Elissa eyed the woman's weapons. They were between the two of them, an obvious reminder that Leliana wouldn't be likely to hesitate to defend herself. Elissa didn't think it was a conscious decision; Leliana was too...something to be blunt like that, but it did make her wonder why her subconscious would worry about such things.

Leliana carried a sword. Elissa had never seen her use it and even considered it might be for show, but Leliana was also beyond proficient with her bow. There hadn't been a need for her to use it. With her, Aedan, Alistair, and Sten, they weren't exactly lacking in experienced warriors, and it was clear what Leliana's weapon of choice was.

But she couldn't help wondering how good the Orlesian was with her blade. It would take years to perfect archery in the way she did and it took Elissa the majority of her life to get to where she was now with her sword. There was no way Leliana was much older than she, but it was still far fetched to think she could be good with both a sword and a bow. Or perhaps she was, and Elissa was just severely underestimating her.

No. Elissa shook her head and looked away. If she wanted to spar, she would wait for Aedan's return. Despite her ribs, she would spar. She was determined now. It was a goal, to get better at attacking rather than capitalizing on someone's mistakes. And if Aedan refused, Alistair or Sten were still options.

Or...she could talk to Morrigan about magic. Elissa had already resolved to work on that particular skill, but with all her thinking, she still hadn't devised a way to bring it up. With Aedan and Leliana, it had sort of just happened. Elissa didn't know what possessed her to blurt it out the one night. It had baffled her, regardless of how good it felt to admit.

Right now, Morrigan was their biggest asset. She could heal most of their wounds without batting an eyelash. She could protect them with magical wards, or set their enemies ablaze with a simple flick of her wrist. The witch exuded power, confidence, things Elissa wanted for herself.

Was she jealous? Yes. Morrigan had had a free life, one where she could just be who she was without fear. Elissa had to hide her abilities, stifle them, but it was difficult. She had to stop herself from exploding in anger on multiple occasions growing up, instead disappearing into the surrounding hills to let out angry bursts of energy. Most of those times, nothing came of it. Once her entire hand caught on fire, but it had been fleeting, lasting only mere seconds.

The only significant use of magic she'd ever seen was when she first learned she could use it, and that wasn't a pleasant memory.

If she could learn how to harness that energy, maybe she'd feel a little better about herself. Maybe she wouldn't feel so terrible, like such a burden. Elissa couldn't hold off multiple darkspawn like the men could, though not from lack of skill, but lack of strength. She might be strong from years of training, but the men had the advantage over her, and always would. If she could use magic, though, maybe she'd be able to hold her own in similar situations too.

Why couldn't her father just give her up to the Circle?

Elissa sighed and ran her hands down her face, exhausted. Her ribs throbbed dully—the pain was almost unnoticeable. Morrigan must've done something; there was no other explanation for why she was healing so quickly. It was magic.

Antsy, Elissa stood. Her chainmail rustled as she belted on her sword, and one of Leliana's eyes opened. Already alert. It was like the woman never slept.

"Where are you going?"

Elissa paused, and then shrugged. "I'm bored."

Leliana sat up, yawning. "I could tell you a story if that would placate you."

"No," Elissa said, shaking her head. "I want to do something."

The sister just looked at her, studying her face. Leliana's gaze was hard, calculating. There was _something_ there. Some sort of experience, like she was trying to read her, but Elissa couldn't understand what it might be. It made her cheeks flush. Elissa hadn't ever been studied like...like she was someone's snack.

"Such as?" Leliana offered.

Again, Elissa shrugged, grateful for the break in her stare. It made her uncomfortable in a not unpleasant way. Elissa didn't like it whatsoever, whatever it was.

"I don't know. I want to..." She trailed off, at a loss. What _did_ she want, exactly? Action? No. Walking? Also no. She just...wanted to move. "Go," she decided.

Leliana frowned, but Elissa could tell she was holding back a laugh. Leliana liked laughing, and if Elissa had a laugh like that, she could understand why.

"Go as in...? What?"

"I don't know. Just go," Elissa retorted, feeling oddly defensive. It was clear now that Leliana was laughing at her, though what for Elissa didn't know.

Leliana stood and armed herself quickly, saying, "Would a walk satisfy you?"

 _No._ "Sure."

As Leliana gestured for Elissa to lead the way, she couldn't help praying to the Maker for Aedan's swift return.


	8. Chapter 8

He was wrong. All of him. His face—its expression, specifically. His attitude. He looked, sounded so...broken.

This wasn't the Aedan she knew. What had happened? Had it been the elf's death that disturbed him so? She didn't think Aedan would be the kind to be hurt by such things, but then, Elissa had desensitized herself to death by just...forgetting about most of it. Aedan might not have done that. They were twins, yes, but they were still two totally different people with two different personalities. Aedan had been raised as a nobleman's son—he was friendly, polite. Elissa was raised as a scorned secret—she was quiet, abrasive.

She didn't doubt he would handle things differently. They hadn't even talked about Highever yet, but she suspected he was quiet about it more for his benefit than her own. Elissa wasn't ready to, didn't want to even acknowledge it happened.

Elissa had thought he'd be glad to have acquired their first ally. Whatever he had orchestrated between Zathrian and the werewolves, it had claimed the former's life and saved the latter from their curse. Lanaya had, in return, promised the assistance of the Dalish for Aedan's hand in fixing their problems. She appeared to just accept that Zathrian was gone. It was odd, but Elissa wouldn't question the help. They needed whatever they could get.

The Dalish hadn't been able to offer much directly, but blankets and a few cloaks were more than enough. Hers was torn and shredded from an encounter with a few wolves, and she'd been given a new one. It was so soft. As loathe as Elissa was to part with her old one, she figured it was for the best. It would only be a waste of space.

Her eyes fell on Aedan again. He was staring intently at a map of Ferelden. It was spread across the grass, held in place by a few rocks he'd previously located. Maps were expensive, took months to make. He wouldn't want to waste Alistair's, and letting it get blown away in the wind would definitely be wasting it.

So conscious of waste now, she was. Elissa couldn't remember caring about losing many things growing up. Her sword, yes, but not much else. Wasting valuable space for a cloak? Unthinkable. Wasting a damn map? That was practically a sin.

It wasn't easy to adjust to, but Elissa liked to think she was doing good.

Her brother was studying something. The last time he'd done this, at the crossroads just north of Lothering, Alistair and Leliana had both been keen to give their input on his decision. Now neither were nowhere to be found. They were packing up the last of their things, well aware of their leader's sour mood. They did, however, appear to get on well, which was good, Elissa supposed. She might not participate in the conversations often, but it was nice to see _someone_ getting along. Sten and Morrigan were too sour, even for her tastes.

Elissa looked away from Aedan for a brief moment, slinging her shield across her shoulders and securing it in place. He had left her to cope on her own, to just...stew, despite his own desire to simply talk. It was what he wanted. He _always_ wanted to talk.

She glanced towards the fire pit, towards Leliana and Alistair. Leliana didn't notice, but Alistair did, and their eyes met. His flicked to Aedan, concern plainly riddled over his features, along with the desire to stay out of fire. Aedan wasn't typically an angry man and he didn't have the tendency to explode like Elissa did, but Alistair wouldn't have any experience in that regard. Aedan was very, very good at keeping his cool.

It was Alistair's silent plea. _Fix him._

Elissa would try.

She brushed her hands off on her thighs, and then marched across the camp like she had some important matter to discuss. She had a purpose, for once.

"Hey."

Aedan glanced at her, not moving to stand. "We'll be leaving soon."

"I don't care about that," Elissa said. He didn't reply, instead opting to roll up the map. The stones were scattered, tossed aside carelessly, and she huffed. They were twins—if something was wrong, they had always turned to each other, and right now, he was shutting her out.

She probably deserved that. She didn't like it, but she definitely deserved it.

Elissa crouched beside him as Aedan tied a cord around the parchment. He didn't acknowledge her despite the intrusion, but stood. He made for the fire, intending to return Alistair's map, but she caught his arm.

"Aedan—"

He snatched his arm back. "Stop."

When was the last time they talked, really talked? It had to have been weeks ago, before Howe, before the Wardens, before the Blight. She owed it to him, but he didn't...want it. Aedan was the only thing that kept her going when they'd fled. He still was. If it wasn't for him, Elissa would've surrendered herself to the darkspawn already.

Elissa's eyes caught Alistair's again. He was staring at them, brows furrowed. Leliana was watching now, too, interested, concerned.

Aedan was still glaring at her, still towering over her. He was an overwhelming presence, stifling. She was dwarfed in comparison.

Elissa swallowed past a lump in her throat, looked away. "I'm sorry."

"S—"

He paused, pushing past her roughly. Elissa frowned, following him with her eyes. A woman was running up to them. She was limping, but Elissa couldn't see any blood, or anything out of the ordinary to look like she'd been hurt. She was, however, covered in dirt, and her dress was ripped, hanging on by threads. Perhaps Elissa was missing something?

She kept running, straight into Aedan's arms, and she collapsed in a fit of sobs. "You have to help us. Please, they attacked the cart!"

Aedan looked back at them, now more confused than angry, and Elissa's frown deepened. She shook her head once. This...something was wrong. She didn't like it.

"Who attacked you?"

"B-bandits! Please, you have to help us."

Her brother looked helpless, but he stood the woman up on her own two feet. Beside her, Leliana appeared, arms folded across her chest. She looked as skeptical as Elissa felt. "This woman is a very poor actress," Leliana whispered.

Elissa was nodding, but so was Aedan. "Can you take us to them?"

* * *

They had forsaken their camp. The woman rushed them, forcing them to just follow, barely armed. Something in the air...it smelled like death. Leliana knew the smell well enough—dead cattle, charred flesh. They had come across a band of refugees, but the darkspawn had beaten them there. This smelled much the same.

The woman disappeared behind a bend in the path. Aedan and Elissa both broke into a run to keep up, leaving the four of them. Alistair raced after them and Leliana followed, but they weren't fast enough. A crack split the air, and the last thing she saw was an elf drawing his weapons. Before they could catch up to the two Wardens, there was another deafening crack.

Alistair would be caught under the tree. That was the cracking. A mage—the woman? She shot something at the trunk, twice, and now it was falling, trying to separate them. Alistair was going to be crushed.

Time felt like it slowed. The elf's movements were taking hours instead of seconds. Aedan hadn't even touched his sword yet. Alistair was just beginning to crouch, to throw himself towards his fellow Wardens. Leliana became acutely aware of her hand reaching for her bow. What should have been a smooth, quick action, suddenly took ages. She could even see Morrigan begin erupting into a raven, Sten's hand wrapping around the hilt of his massive sword.

But Elissa, she moved as quick as ever, darting under the tree and pulling Alistair to safety. She barely caught a glimpse of them falling to the ground as the tree crashed to the forest floor, sending splinters and dust flying. Morrigan was gone the same instant, disappearing through the debris, and leaving Leliana with Sten.

Was that...magic?

"The Grey Wardens die here!"

She knew that accent. Antivan. They were Crows. Assassins, sent to kill the Wardens, most likely from the man who had fled Ostagar. Word must've reached him. Someone in Lothering, or someone they'd run into along the highway. Someone must've made it to Denerim.

Leliana had only run into the Crows on a handful of occasions, but she knew their reputation. She knew what they were capable of, and her and Sten couldn't stay here. They would need help.

Climbing over the tree would be the most direct route, but it was higher than even Sten, and getting down wouldn't be safe. Around was impossible; they'd trapped them in a small valley. Had the situation been anything different, Leliana might've admired the fact that they'd chosen such a good place for their ambush. It was quite impressive. She doubted even she would have the thought to select somewhere like this.

The hair on her arms stood on end as a flash of light arced from the other side. It was Morrigan, trying to hold back the men on the hillside.

"This way!" Leliana exclaimed, motioning Sten after her. She ran towards the base of the trunk, towards its stump. The hill was steep here, almost entirely vertical, but it wasn't too high, and she should be able to reach it if Sten lifted her. He seemed to have the same idea, going straight where she wanted him. He crouched down and made a cup with his hands.

As her hands wrapped around the wood, Leliana heaved herself up. She sat there for a moment, surveying the fighting, before offering the qunari her own help. He didn't accept, instead jumping up to grab the stump she was sitting on.

Leliana leapt down to make room for him, rolling awkwardly over her quiver. Her arrows rattled, but a piece of cloth kept them secure. She flicked it aside and swung her longbow into her hands, setting an arrow on her bowstring, as she looked for her first target.

The mage, obviously. She would be the least prepared for one of Leliana's arrows, and was dueling with Aedan while he tried to fend off the elf. Using a bow was so...intimate, in a way, and allowed Leliana the time to truly process her surroundings. The mage was indefinitely the most annoying out of the bunch, and it would benefit them the most to kill her first.

Or would it? Above her and across, there were men with crossbows, looking for gaps in anyone's defense to exploit. Morrigan had fried one already, but she was sparring with two swordsmen now. She spun around them and dodged their attacks expertly, but it looked like she was struggling. There wasn't a chance for her to cast a spell anywhere.

One arrow was all it took to even Morrigan's odds. Her shot hit her target between his shoulders. Had he been wearing anything thicker than leather, he might've survived, but Leliana could see the blood, the shocked expression on his face as he turned.

She didn't care. This was where she _thrived._

Another arrow, this time for the mage as she readied a fireball meant for both Aedan and Alistair. As Leliana drew back the bowstring, a flash of movement caught her eye. She turned at the last second, just quick enough to see the shield as it slammed into her. Her hand slipped and the arrow fired, missing its target entirely.

Leliana reeled, staggering, but it wasn't the first time she'd been hit so hard, and recovering was easy. She shook her head and danced back towards the fallen tree, holding her bow between her and her attacker while she blinked past the spinning. Her ears rang and she swore she felt blood on her neck.

He had small, beady eyes, and a round face, but otherwise, was rather small for a man carrying a sword and shield. He was sizing her up, looking for an opportunity, so he was at least intelligent enough to not dismiss her completely.

He came at her again, jabbing forward to her throat. Leliana leaned out of his reach, twisting to the side, and snapped her bow towards his ankles. He fumbled and she kneed him in the stomach. As he doubled over, she reached over her shoulder for an arrow, and drove it into his ribs.

Leliana ripped her arrow back and turned, putting the mage back in her sights. The woman's back was to her. Such an easy shot. So simple to just...snuff her out, too.

The wind swelled and Leliana readjusted, aiming slightly to the left. She released the arrow before the wind could truly gust, and she watched for a half a second, until the arrow landed in her throat.

That was the ultimate satisfaction.


	9. Chapter 9

What was it about a Blight that made everyone suspicious?

Elissa rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn't have time for this. None of them did, and yet, here they were, promised to assist these villagers. Sure, she understood Aedan's thought process. She understood him as well as he understood her. He wanted to save Redcliffe's people to impress Arl Eamon. It would be something when they requested his knights.

But they didn't seem too keen on their help, despite Aedan offering it numerous times. They wanted help; it was obvious. The hesitation they showed at the sight of three Grey Wardens wasn't enough to get them turned away. But still, there was something there. Fear?

It was almost sundown. Elissa had her doubts about these undead, suspecting this was some sort of trap just to turn them over to Loghain, but then, if that's what it was, why would the knights have been so nervous? It was almost like they were afraid of being caught with the Wardens.

Her eyes fell on her brother, only a few yards away, with the others. Sam was sitting faithfully at his side, eyes roaming wildly over their new surroundings. It wasn't much to see, this village, but for Sam, anything and everything new was exciting.

Elissa had never seen much of the real world, but a castle surrounded by a moat and its village wasn't very interesting to her. Redcliffe was so perfectly positioned against Lake Calenhad it hadn't taken much for the builders to dig a trench. The water flowing around the small island was straight from the lake itself. It gave Redcliffe easy access to half the country in the summer months.

She supposed she should be listening to his plan, to whatever information the knights had given him, but she didn't care to. The village was under siege at night. Monsters were killing these people, and however important Elissa thought or didn't think this mission was, she was going to protect them. It was what Aedan wanted. And these days, what Aedan wanted was what she wanted.

Again, she eyed him. He looked so worn down and exhausted—it made her heart ache. He hadn't been right since they left the Dalish, and she had hardly put in any effort to talk to him. The one time she had, they'd been interrupted. Now they were running around with the same damn elf that had tried to assassinate them.

Zevran was his name. He was...interesting. Not in a way that made Elissa curious. It was more of a reason to avoid him, and while the others got the message, Zevran did not. Whereas Leliana's pestering was somewhat of a relief, Zevran's was strange and annoying. He would blatantly flirt, make lewd comments, and just be a pain in the ass. Leliana would just...lurk and ask silly questions, or just talk.

At the thought of the redhead, Elissa smirked. Yesterday, Leliana had started talking about Orlesian fashion trends, and at Elissa's prompting, revealed how ridiculous they could be. It wasn't much of a secret in the first place, but to hear about it from someone who'd personally witnessed it... Elissa almost laughed at the very thought. She had to catch herself again—she was still uncomfortable with the idea of letting anyone here see her be anything but annoyed.

Leliana's conversation had been enjoyable, pleasant. Zevran's, not so much. He made a comment about the size of her chest, something about how her armor was not flattering. It made her far more uncomfortable than the idea of accidentally sharing a laugh with Leliana.

Maker, did she wonder what the hell Aedan was thinking sparing that man. It was inevitable he would eventually do something that dumbfounded even her, but she definitely did not expect _this._

Zevran had tried to murder them, and there he was, grinning about whatever they were talking about. From the look on Alistair's face, the reddening of his cheeks and abashed gaze, it was inappropriate.

Alistair. Her fists clenched and unclenched as anger boiled through her veins. It felt twice as strong as it did before, when he'd first told them. Was it because she wasn't caught off guard, or was it truly that irritating? Probably a mix of both, she decided.

But then, could she truly judge him? Elissa and Aedan hadn't thought to tell the others of their parentage. How could Alistair just look at them and say, "Hey, by the way, my father was Maric Theirin"?

He was the heir to the damn throne, and he just thought it wasn't important?

There was a lot of things Elissa found herself understanding recently, and they all pissed her off. That, though, Alistair's secret, it was at the top of her list, currently. Oh, she understood keeping that a secret very well. If it got back to Loghain that the surviving Grey Wardens were a Theirin and two Couslands, he would double his efforts in hunting them down. It was definitely worthy of being kept quiet, but she couldn't help being so deeply irritated with it.

But he told them. Even her, despite her harshness, he trusted. Elissa knew he only told her out of respect for being a fellow Warden, but he had told her who he was. Did he deserve the same?

Before she could decide on an answer for herself, Aedan called out to her. Their companions were gone, dismissed to ready themselves for the coming fight. His shoulders slumped considerably when she joined him, and he let out a sigh of relief.

Elissa was on edge. So few words had been exchanged between them since his small outburst. None of them had shown anything was forgiven or forgotten.

But he was the one that was hurting, not her. It wasn't him who should apologize, or reach out. It should be her. She knew that. It was the right thing to do. He had been there for her through so much. It was her turn to be that for him.

And yet, she didn't say anything. She just regarded him carefully, her own bright green eyes staring right back at her. Same eye color, same eyebrows, same dusty brown hair. In the summer, their hair might come off as a sandy blond, but now, with winter rapidly approaching, it was the normal boring brown. Hers was neat, brushed, pulled over her shoulder in a braid, and his was messy, unkempt, hanging around his face.

He used to style it similarly to Alistair's. Brushed up, taken care of. He didn't care to now. He'd only cut it once since Ostagar, and it was starting to show.

It hurt to see him like this. He was so proud, so brave. He was a wonderful man and a wonderful brother, and now, he looked so broken.

He didn't deserve her shit. He didn't deserve her attitude, or her questioning his decisions. He didn't deserve any of this. He was so kind, so strong. He was the perfect sibling, the perfect son to the perfect family, and she felt so damn guilty. Highever, their family's death, the Blight, Ostagar, all of it felt like it was her fault. And if she could somehow erase all of this pain for him, she would do it in a heartbeat.

There was something there, in her chest. A deep sense of satisfaction, of pride. It wasn't hers.

She couldn't even process the feeling before she found herself wrapped up in Aedan's massive arms. He was shaking, not crying, just trembling. The pressure that was on him, it looked like it was catching up.

Elissa returned his hug, squeezing him tightly. Anxiety pooled in her gut, but she didn't let go of him. Aedan needed this. It wasn't about her; it was about him.

It was comforting, though, to be surrounded by someone so familiar. It made her feel safe, like she was at home. Nowhere had ever necessarily been safe for her, but right here, right now, with Aedan, it felt good. He might think of her magic as unnatural, but Aedan had always defended her when their father would yell, always protected her when they got into fights.

He deserved a better sister than she. He deserved someone who would stand by his side without hesitation, who wouldn't argue with his choices, who wouldn't snap when he decided to recruit an Orlesian or a qunari. He deserved someone who had the emotional and mental capacity to care. She was none of those things.

But oh, she would try. Aedan deserved that much from her.

His arms slowly fell from her shoulders as he stood. The exhaustion was still there, but there was a hopeful glint in his eye, like some of his faith in the world had been restored. She understood that, too. That strange tug in her chest was still there, and it grew stronger with her own emotions.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome, brother."

Aedan cracked a smile and he nodded. Their embrace had only been a few seconds, but it had been the best few seconds Elissa had experienced in weeks. She imagined he felt the same. It was good to know that no matter what shit they got themselves into, they would still have each other.

"Make sure you're ready," Aedan said, standing a little taller. It almost made her smile, seeing that. "Teagan says the undead have been growing in numbers every night, and tonight is going to be bad."

Elissa returned his nod. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

His smile broadened a bit, and he dipped his head once as he turned to leave. Hopefully he would go rest—he needed it. But if Elissa knew anything, she knew her brother would be awake with the others, helping them prepare however he could. Whether it be helping Leliana mash elfroot into a salve, or Zevran mixing a poison, he would happily assist.

She watched him disappear amongst the docks, arms still folded over her chest, when she felt a presence behind her. Elissa spun, unnerved, to find herself face to face with Morrigan.

Elissa swallowed deeply. Morrigan, for all her bluster, looked rather surprised Elissa had heard her coming. She moved as silently as Leliana, if not moreso. Morrigan could be across camp one second, and suddenly, right beside Elissa without making a noise, but something has alerted her to Morrigan's presence.

Just like something had warned her about Alistair's untimely demise with that tree trunk.

"Warden," Morrigan said coolly.

"Hello," was Elissa's thoughtless response. Was that the first word Morrigan had spoken to her? No, they'd spoke before. Briefly, about shapeshifting. Elissa hadn't been curious as to how Morrigan did it, just curious that it existed whatsoever, but Morrigan had seemed suspicious. Between Elissa's one invasive conversation and the enticed way she stared at Morrigan's hands as she lit the campfire, Elissa worried Morrigan suspected her of being a mage.

But how could she not? She had slowed _everything_ on pure _instinct_ to save Alistair's life. It had exhausted her the moment she pulled him to safety, made every lift of her arm painful, but something had propelled her on, given her the strength to keep fighting.

Elissa wasn't overly religious, but she thanked the Maker that night for whatever it was. If she hadn't had that energy, Zevran would've killed her.

"Do you need something?" Elissa snapped, growing uncomfortable yet again under the witch's heavy stare.

But of course she did. In this regard, Morrigan and Elissa were the same. They were never the ones to initiate a conversation, but here she was, seeking Elissa out of her own volition.

Either Elissa was about to die, or Morrigan had figured her out, and neither of those options were ideal.

* * *

The smell was the worst part. It wasn't everyday Elissa found herself surrounded by walking corpses, but she was, and they stank. They smelled like death and fish, and if Elissa was being entirely honest with herself, they smelled worse than darkspawn. She would pay an unholy amount of sovereigns to be buried in darkspawn right now, and that was saying something. Darkspawn terrified her to no end, made her knees go weak. She would've preferred that to the unbearable sickness this reek was giving her.

Just as Elissa pulled her sword free of one corpse's chest, another launched itself onto her shield, pulling at the wood so roughly it threatened to rip her shoulder out of place. These creatures fought with reckless abandon, with no care for themselves or their brothers, their only desire to kill and add more to their ranks. Even the darkspawn, for all their insanity, would at least protect each other occasionally. These monsters just threw themselves on her sword. There was no intelligence to their attacks, no thought, no preparation. They just wanted to kill.

Elissa yanked her arm and her shield back to her body, tucking herself behind it as the creature clawed at her face. She braced herself and swung for its throat. Her blade sunk into rotted flesh and sinew, cutting through the bone and rending its head from its shoulders. The corpse fell at her feet, well and truly dead, and she leapt past, searching wildly for anyone who might need her help.

The torchlight reflected off the lake, sending strange shadows floating around the village and the Chantry, and making it difficult for her to discern what was real and what was not. It was such a weak source of light, barely enough to cover the entire yard. There were so many bodies struggling amongst each other. So many knights, militia, corpses. Just a few moments ago, she had been able to see a flash of red hair, though whether that belonged to Bann Teagan, Leliana, or someone else, she hadn't been able to tell.

Most of the fighting was concentrated around the Chantry doors, where the villagers were locked away in hopes of them fighting off the undead. The things seemed determined to get past the men stationed there, but the men were stubborn, and they weren't making it easy.

There it was again, telling her, forcing her, to turn around. Several of the things were crawling from the lake, their eyes on her, singled out like a fool. How Elissa had gotten herself here, she didn't know, but she wasn't part of the main fight, instead dispatching any stragglers that might crop up.

Unlike the darkspawn, however, when Elissa dipped behind her shield, there was no fear. Just grim determination. These things were insane and disgusting, but they were not intelligent enough or strong enough to kill her.

A few of them carried swords. Another carried a bow, arrows soaking wet, but somehow still capable of firing. One of them bounced off her shield, having hit it at an angle, as the three with swords lurched towards her. It was an odd sight, watching them try to run. But then again, all of this was rather odd, and Elissa liked using that word to describe weird things going on around her.

The tallest was on her first, swinging its sword in a wide, careless arc. Elissa sidestepped, ducking under the sword, and pivoted. She came up behind the creature, face to face with another, and drove her blade into its stomach. It screamed as she tore her sword free. Neither her nor the corpse missed a beat, and their swords clashed as she blocked its blow. The vibration ran up her arm, and for a brief moment, she regretted getting overconfident.

The third reached her. It lunged forward, trying to impale her throat the gut. She smacked the sword aside with her own and deflected another strike with her shield. For the moment, she was on the defensive, trying to regain her composure before looking for any openings. These things weren't hard to kill—there was just so many. It was difficult for her to keep up with them; Elissa didn't want to imagine what it was like for the militiamen.

For most of them, this was the entire reason they were learning how to use their swords. Even for the knights, this was ridiculous, and even for her, it was ridiculous. There were so many undead. It was overwhelming for experienced swordsmen. She didn't want to think about how scary this must've been for the people who weren't used to combat.

The corpse on the left jabbed at her ribs while the other swung for her throat. Elissa threw her shield up to catch the sword on her right, swung her sword to her left. She put all of her strength into it and sent the corpse's weapon flying back into the water. It was easy to deal with after that, a simple swipe along its neck.

_Duck._

It wasn't a thought. It was an order.

Elissa ducked.

An arrow whistled over her head as she did so. It was the archer by the water, but its shot was quickly met with another, and Elissa barely caught a glimpse of its splash before that unknown feeling was propelling her to fight again. It wasn't as if she wasn't in control. She was, but that thing...it was the same thing that helped her throw that log on her back with Alistair. It was the same thing that helped her climb trees as a child, and the same thing that set the bear aflame.

Fire flashed in her eyes at the memory. Her and Aedan, terrified, running as fast as their little legs could carry them. Back to Highever, Elissa had insisted, before the monster of an animal had found them. It wasn't the bear's fault; they were dumb children, playing where they shouldn't. They should be dead.

"Elissa!"

She snapped back into reality as a sword came around for her chest. No amount of adrenaline would've saved her, but an arrow smacked into the corpse's temple, and it staggered. Elissa blinked, confused, and then stabbed it through the chest for good measure.

"Are you all right?" Leliana asked, appearing at her side a moment later.

Elissa nodded, eyebrows knitting together. Her eyes fell from Leliana's to the body at their feet. Had Leliana ever missed a shot?

Elissa pushed the thought from her mind. Why was she thinking about Leliana and her bow, or anything, for that matter? Why wasn't she fighting?

Maker, this was going to be a long night.


	10. Chapter 10

It had been blood magic.

Of course it had been. When was anything like that _not_ blood magic? What else could raise the dead, send an arl into a coma, and effectively remove Loghain's strongest rival?

Elissa had only met the man once before Ostagar, but he didn't seem so low as to resort to this. Then again, he didn't seem like the man to betray his king, either, but he had done that too. All of this could have been avoided if Loghain had just followed Cailan's plan.

Elissa wondered what Anora's role was now. She wondered if Anora even knew how Cailan had died. Not whatever lies Loghain had told, but the truth. She wondered if Anora thought as little of the Wardens as her father did.

For some reason, the idea bothered her. Elissa had been rather secluded for the majority of her life, being left at home whenever her father or mother would travel with her brothers. But before that, Elissa had been her mother's pride. The only daughter in a family of boys. She would be constantly paraded around whenever any family would visit Highever, hoping that one of their boys would take a liking to her.

And sure, some did, but Elissa never liked any of them. The closest she'd come to being promised to someone was Howe's youngest, Thomas. He didn't seem as cruel as Rendon himself did, but again, Elissa had never expected Howe to turn on them, and she wouldn't be surprised if Thomas shared his father's hatred.

For now, though, none of that mattered. What mattered was securing their allies for the Blight. And as fate would have it, they needed to go north, to the Circle of Magi, to help Arl Eamon's son, Connor. He, too, was a mage, born into too high a family to allow their reputation to be tarnished. Eamon's wife, Isolde, had hired an apostate to train her son in secret, to teach him just enough so he could protect himself from those dangers and keep himself hidden.

The thought made her throat constrict. That Orlesian woman cared more about her son than Elissa's father cared about her. If they all just forgot Elissa was a mage, they figured it would somehow go away. But not Isolde. She wanted her son to be safe.

Yes, it had led to hiring a blood mage sent to poison Eamon, but her intentions had been good. It was more than Elissa could credit either of her parents for, anyway.

Their walk was rather quiet. The only people usually content enough to talk were uncharacteristically soft-spoken today. Alistair was understandably moping with Aedan, whispering about whatever it was the two men talked about. The Wardens, usually. Rarely, Elissa would join them, and whenever she did, they were talking about the Grey Wardens.

Leliana was right beside Elissa, her norm, and Zevran was wandering somewhere between them and the two ahead of them. Sten and Morrigan were both walking at the back of the group, by themselves.

Lake Calenhad glistened in the early morning light. It wasn't as clear as the Waking Sea, but the water was beautiful. Small waves lapped at the shoreline. If Elissa looked closely, she could see smaller fish lurking below the surface, dancing around each other. She'd never seen fish in the Waking Sea, but then, that was a larger body of water, and far more violent than the lake. It made her homesick. She missed the warmth, though from the way Zevran joked about it, she suddenly doubted it was ever warm. Warmer than the rest of Ferelden, perhaps, but not anywhere near what the elf was accustomed to.

And there, far in the distance, she could see the spire of the mages' tower. They wouldn't be able to reach it on foot until tomorrow, but Maker, it must be huge. They hadn't stopped walking since leaving Redcliffe, determined to get help for Conner and hopefully for the arl. Whatever Jowan, the mage, had given him, he was lost, and nothing anyone did would wake him.

Aedan hadn't even let them rest; as soon as their plan of action had been decided, they left. It would have been nice to at least eat real food instead of Alistair's cooking, but he didn't care. Elissa might've said something, but she stopped herself. If she wanted to be in charge of this group, she had missed her opportunity weeks ago. He said go, so they went.

Elissa looked back for their two solitary companions. Sten was marching along with his usual blank expression, but Morrigan was looking straight at her, and Elissa immediately turned back around.

 _Nope,_ she thought. _Not touching that subject._

Faintly, Elissa swore she heard the witch chuckle. Somehow she had lied her way out of Morrigan's demands at Redcliffe; she knew. Morrigan _knew._ There was no way around it. There were signs everywhere. Carrying shit around their camp with Alistair, saving the damn man's life when they were ambushed, every single damn question Elissa had asked weeks ago.

It was so painfully obvious and Elissa had denied it anyway.

Morrigan had given up uncharacteristically quickly. Elissa had no way to prove she wasn't a mage, and the witch had enough evidence to believe otherwise. Thankfully, though, Alistair, Sten, and Zevran seemed oblivious.

Again, Elissa allowed her eyes to wander, this time to her company. Leliana was peaceful enough today. For the first time, Elissa found herself missing the woman's voice, the unending chattering about one thing or another. It didn't take much to get Leliana started, but Elissa never was good at talking, and had no idea how to even start a conversation like...well, like a normal person would. What was she even supposed to talk about? The dirt?

No, not interesting enough, though Leliana would probably humor her just out of kindness. Not the grass either—just as boring. There was dirt and grass everywhere. What did Elissa have to talk about? Herself?

The very idea made her cringe.

Leliana's giggle made her jump. Her eyes were on Elissa, bright and amused, and oh boy, had she made a mistake. Suddenly she didn't want to talk whatsoever, retreat within herself where all she had were her own grumblings.

"What was that face for?" Leliana whispered, strangely interested in keeping the quiet.

Elissa huffed. "What are you looking at me for, anyway?"

" _I_ was looking at the lake," Leliana replied. "I can't help you are in my way."

That tone... Elissa rolled her eyes, stopped so Sten and Morrigan could pass them. Leliana stopped a few steps ahead, looking over her shoulder. If Elissa looked closely, she thought she might've seen the slightest sign of impatience in the woman's eyes.

When Elissa decided to resume walking, they were several yards away from the others, but just close enough to help if something went awry. Only Zevran seemed to notice, looking back once before turning away.

"So..."

Elissa wanted to slap herself. Why had she wanted this just a few moments ago? She wanted peace and quiet, _always,_ and had found herself missing Leliana's...lack thereof, and now that she had Leliana's attention, she didn't want it.

"Yes?" Elissa asked, sighing. She'd done this to herself; there was no way out of it now, and she might as well deal with it.

"So where does one learn how to fight so proficiently, and yet not know how to pitch a tent?"

Elissa eyed the woman, suspicion obvious, but Leliana looked as innocent as ever, posture and expression completely harmless. She was so good at faking it Elissa almost forgot she was armed.

"Where I'm from," Elissa retorted, looking away immediately.

If she stared at Leliana too long, she threatened to get completely lost. Leliana's eyes were such a unique color, so foreign. Elissa was accustomed to browns and greens, boring, drab Fereldan colors, but Leliana's were such a clear blue that they alone could swallow Elissa up.

"And where would that be?" Leliana pressed.

Elissa chewed her lip, trying to think of a good lie, but then decided it might be safer to try and sprinkle a little of the truth in. To sell it better. "Highever."

Leliana's eyebrows perked in surprise. Elissa was careful to not reveal anything about who she or Aedan were, diverting every question back on the sister, who was equally reluctant about revealing her past.

"I thought so," was Leliana's answer. Her voice grew heavy, almost sad, and Elissa couldn't hide the confusion. "It's been quite some time since I saw laurels in Ferelden."

"Meaning?"

Leliana shook her head. "It's not important. I haven't been so far north in a while." There was a story there, that was damn sure. Elissa wanted to know what it was. Perhaps it would satiate any lingering doubts about Leliana's motives. But before Elissa could think, Leliana was talking again. "Are you and your brother knights, then?"

Elissa hesitated. If she let go of more of her own past, perhaps Leliana would do the same, right? "Aedan was. I...wasn't."

An eyebrow quirked. "Oh? What were you, if you don't mind my asking."

Oh, she minded, and no, Elissa had no way to lie out of this one. Nothing concrete came to her mind, so she shrugged, saying, "Someone hiding in her brother's shadow."

"You don't seem so keen on that now."

_You have no idea._

"There isn't much of an option," Elissa said, trying to lighten the mood. "If he says we leave, I either go, or I get left behind."

Leliana just blinked, unperturbed, and totally unfazed by Elissa's bait to change the topic. "You are far better at the Game than any Fereldan has a right to be."

"You mean that stupid thing Orlesian nobles do?"

Leliana nodded, saying, "I wouldn't call it stupid. Intricate, perhaps, and strange to an outsider." Elissa, again, tried to focus the subject elsewhere, but Leliana didn't allow it. She was a master at seizing any opportunity Elissa gave her. "Which part of Highever do you hail from? A village? A farm? One of the arlings?"

Elissa shook her head. "No. No, we're from the, uh...the castle."

"Ah," Leliana said, nodding. She seemed fond of that, her nodding. That and very eyebrow-y facial expressions. Was that an Orlesian thing, Elissa wondered. "And how does a mage hide right under the teyrn's nose?"

"Can we talk about something else?" Elissa said. She was desperate now. This entire conversation was a mistake.

Leliana eyed her, critical now, rather than the soft understanding Elissa was used—and perhaps even relieved—to see at the end of everyday. Leliana knew there was something she wasn't telling her, and while she could probably put two and two together, thankfully, she, unlike Morrigan, did not. At least, not aloud.

"Very well."

Relief flooded Elissa's veins.

Instead of talking, however, they returned to an easy silence, the only sound that of Elissa's armor rustling ever so slightly. Leliana was as quiet as ever. If Elissa wasn't so painfully aware of her presence right now, she might've even forgotten Leliana was there.

"Will you tell me where you're from?" Elissa asked carefully.

"Orlais," Leliana said, every bit as unamusing as Elissa was sure she was when she gave answers like that.

"But _where?_ " Elissa specified.

"A northern villa," Leliana replied, "so we have that in common. My mother was a servant to one of the nobility."

"Anyone I might know?" Elissa asked.

Leliana's eyes sparkled. Something about it, it made Elissa think she was almost delighted. "Most likely not. She was a very inconsequential woman, even during the rebellion."

"Try me."

"Lady Cecilie Vasseur."

Her voice sounded so distinctly Orlesian as the name rolled off her tongue. Elissa had caught brief words Leliana would mutter to herself sometimes—most likely curses. She recognized they were Orlesian, definitely, and it sounded so fitting from her, in comparison to the harsh words Fereldans would use. Leliana was a slight woman, and the dainty language fit her so well it was almost ridiculous.

Elissa shook her head. "You got me. I have no idea who that is."

Leliana laughed. "I am unsurprised. As a child, I thought the world of Lady Cecilie, but as an adult, I realize how...uneventful and utterly unimportant she was."

Her face fell as she said it, but she immediately perked back up. "She raised me, you see. My mother passed when I was young."

"Oh." Elissa looked away awkwardly, breath hitching in her throat. "I'm sorry."

"As am I."

Silence overcame them again, and Elissa caught herself peeking at her companion. Leliana wasn't much older than she was, but there was something there that marked a total difference in maturity. It was a deep sadness, one someone had resigned themselves to, and one Elissa couldn't possibly understand. Elissa was a fumbling child in Leliana's presence, but she didn't seem to mind.

"I'm sorry," Elissa repeated. "For acting the way I do."

"It's all right. I understand."

Elissa tensed, recoiling. She didn't need coddled, and Leliana was prone to doing so. Was it because she was afraid to push her? Was she afraid of Elissa snapping?

"No, don't...make excuses for me," Elissa said. "I'm not deserving of them."

And before she could stop herself, Elissa let out the entire truth.

"I'm an ass," she said. The tone she used, there was no arguing. "I have so many problems with everything going on around me and I just...shut down, instead of trying to deal with them, and then I take it out on everyone else and pretend it's their fault instead of my own. I'm so afraid of acknowledging my own involvement in anything and it just makes me angrier, but I don't know how to think or act or feel or anything and—"

Leliana cut her off. "You don't have to keep talking."

"No, I do, because I'm _such a bitch_ that Alistair is more afraid of me than he is of Morrigan. I don't talk to anyone. I don't think anyone here is deserving of my damn breath, save Aedan. I don't think anyone should have to listen to me talk, but I don't talk because I don't care about anyone or anything."

"And why is that?" Leliana asked.

To her credit, Leliana didn't seem offended. She seemed perfectly indifferent, content to just listen and allow Elissa this rant.

"I am so deprived of human interaction that I don't even know how to talk to people," Elissa said. Her shoulders slumped considerably, exhausted already even though she wasn't done. "My own father didn't want anything to do with me. How am I supposed to...to recover from that? What does a person do when their parents all but disown them?"

Leliana was so gentle. So, so gentle that it made Elissa want to cry, but she didn't have it in her. "No one deserves that. Not even a mage, no matter who their family is."

Elissa blinked, forcing her watery eyes to stop. "What does that mean?"

"I understand. And I understand why it hurts."

"No, no you don't."

Leliana's eyes were so soft right now. So kind. What did Elissa do to deserve someone who cared? "I don't understand how it hurts, but I know it does."

How could she? How could anyone understand what she was feeling? Who else in this world would understand this struggle? Loved one day, forgotten the next, and all because she could use magic. That wasn't even something she could control, and she was hated for it.

Her entire early childhood, she was spoiled. She had two older brothers and a mother and father that loved her. All she had to do was ask, and whatever she wanted was hers. And it all changed, just as quickly, because she was a mage. She was the family favorite, the perfect child, and overnight, she was just...no one.

And somehow, Elissa's heart broke every time she thought of Howe murdering her family. Fergus' little family that he started by himself, Ser Gilmore, Nan, her parents. Her parents. They resented her, and she still mourned them.

What had they done to deserve any of her time or pain? What had she done to deserve to be haunted by their memory?

Elissa didn't even realize she was still trudging along. Leliana was standing right by her side. She was quiet, Maker be praised, and trying her hardest to look anywhere but at Elissa.

"Thank you," Elissa mumbled, eyes downcast.

"For what? I don't remember a thing."

Elissa almost laughed, but there was definitely a smile, one Leliana returned. Whether she had meant it as a joke, or to say they'd never have to talk about it again, or even both, Elissa was grateful.

Perhaps Leliana was the Maker's way of apologizing for everything Elissa had had to put up with.


	11. Chapter 11

She was...warm?

Strangely so. It was a strong sensation, radiating through her ribs and up her shoulder, all the way down to her fingertips. It flowed all over, and then suddenly, just as fast, it was gone.

_This is not right._

Elissa jumped, jolted really, into... something. She wasn't asleep. She was just...lost? Confused? What had happened? She struggled to remember what was going on, where she was, but any effort made to think made her head split with pain.

_This is not home._

It was a voice. At first, Elissa had thought it was her own thoughts, echoing and vibrating throughout her skull. Now she realized it was coming from _around_ her.

She scrambled to her feet. Nausea threatened to swallow her whole and vertigo almost knocked her back down. The dull ache in her head now consumed her entirely; what little light there was made every throb far worse than it had any right to be.

"Where am I?"

The voice was still there. Soft, but it was so deep it shook her to her core. The very ground beneath her feet felt as if it was rumbling.

Spires swirled above her head. Tall, so tall she couldn't see their tops past the eerie green fog. Everything felt distorted, as if she'd seen it before and she knew what it was, but it wasn't real.

Understanding clicked. This was the Fade, wasn't it?

_Safe._

The rumbling was gone now. It had shifted into a contented sigh. Still soft, protecting. The exact opposite of what Elissa had been raised to think of the realm of spirits.

Was that what the voice belonged to? A spirit? Or was it a demon?

Elissa's mind was scattered. She couldn't think straight. Nothing made sense. How she'd gotten here, wherever that was. She couldn't remember anything before...this. Who was she?

There was an odd warmth spreading through her again. It didn't come from her side this time, but the center of her chest, moving slowly and taking its time. It felt so familiar, so safe. It reminded her of Morrigan's healing spells.

_Morrigan!_

Ferelden. The Blight. Their treaties—the mages. She remembered now, though she wasn't sure how she had come to that conclusion, or where her own thoughts were coming from. She felt...not alone, but it was more comforting than terrifying.

If this was the Fade, being alone would probably be preferable.

Elissa struggled still. She forced herself to power through the headache, to focus on that warmth and her own thoughts. She was trying so hard to remember what had _just_ happened, how she got here. Even when she slept, Elissa remembered never being overly sensitive to the Fade. She rarely dreamt, though when she did, they were often nightmares. Even rarer did they make sense, but now, it seemed she couldn't escape them. Her nights were often filled with thoughtless visions of darkspawn.

The Circle. Elissa was certain that was the final place she had been. Aedan had taken her, Morrigan, and Zevran into the tower in search of the Grand Enchanter. It was the only way the Knights Commander would release the mages' lockdown, and the only way he would let them back out. If they tried to leave before finding the man, or if he was dead, they would be trapped in here, with the demons.

Wynne had been here. Elissa had a short chat with her at Ostagar about the darkspawn. At the time, she wasn't interested in running around with her brother as he searched for the other Warden recruits. The templars had fascinated her in a way only darkspawn could. They too were there to hunt her, but still a curiosity, even if deadly.

She was protecting a group of younger mages, children. The oldest of the group couldn't have been more than fifteen. They looked terrified. This had been their worst fears realized.

If Elissa was perfectly honest with herself, it was probably her own, too. Growing up, she had always vaguely wondered what would happen if she ended up possessed. Would she kill Aedan? Would _she_ die?

Aedan dragging her along wasn't a comforting plan. He hadn't seemed very keen on the idea himself, but somehow, she had ended up on the other side of those doors.

_Think!_

Elissa wracked her brain. Wynne had accompanied them through the tower. She said she'd seen the Grand Enchanter be taken, along with several of the Circle's best, to something called the Harrowing chamber, before rescuing the children. Whatever that was, all Elissa knew was that it was the highest place in the tower, and that meant a long, miserable trudge through demons and possessed mages.

Morrigan, at the very least, was mildly concerned with the idea of bringing a totally untrained mage into a building where demons were running around freely, so that was something.

But how had she gotten here?

It was so foggy. They had cleared the...third floor? Yes. The third floor. They cleared it and were heading through the library to ascend to the fourth. They'd barely opened the door when a voice said...something.

_Sleep._

Whatever manner of spirit this haunting voice belonged to, it was not the same as the one that had put them to sleep. That voice had been different. It didn't radiate the same strength as this one did, but something else entirely. It was like it specialized in what it did to them.

But then, that's what spirits and demons did, wasn't it? They embodied virtues, good or bad. What was this one?

"What are you?" Elissa asked.

She didn't know who she expected to answer. The demon that had trapped her here, or the other thing that seemed protective of her.

There was that feeling again. The tug in her chest, the overwhelming warmth and safety. It felt like a beacon was burning inside of her, her own personal light in the dark.

_Hope._

"Is that what you are?"

There was no direct answer, just the same, warm sense of satisfaction that always followed her sporadic use of magic. Elissa understood now it was never her own. Every time she affected the world around her, Elissa was scared, confused, but that thing was always there, helping her brush it off like nothing had happened at all.

And then she was falling, being swallowed up whole, by...herself?

Elissa hadn't even hit the floor when her eyes snapped back open. Coming back to reality, it was like having a bucket of ice thrown on her. It was cold in the tower, but...

Her body was moving? But she wasn't in control of it. How was that possible?

It was then Elissa realized she was fighting. It wasn't her, though. It was like this thing, this spirit, was piloting her body, propelling it to move her shield, her sword. She just watched as it shot ice from her own fingertips. Spells Elissa couldn't even imagine casting, this thing just _did._ Elissa had never even intentionally used magic in her life, and this thing was flaunting her abilities around like it meant nothing.

She tried to scream. Slam her hands on the walls that were trapping her here. She was a passenger in her own body, and Maker, was it a whole new level of insane.

Her eyes focused on the elder mage, Wynne, clad in the same vibrant red robes she wore at Ostagar. To Elissa, though, all she saw was a white hot heat, and she knew immediately. There was another. Someone else like her, but not nearly so...aggressive. She got the feeling Wynne was in total control of herself.

It was weaker. Whatever was holding Wynne wasn't anywhere near as strong as the spirit holding Elissa hostage.

Everything was a blur.

Aedan was speaking with the others. It had felt like a lifetime passed since she woke, but it had only been minutes. Everything this spirit processed was so strange. It didn't quite understand what her brother was talking about, but when she spoke, it was her own voice, answering the inane garble so fluently.

Elissa didn't know what was going on. Confusion wasn't a new thing for her, but this was a totally different level. Three seconds ago, she had been standing on the docks outside the tower, and now she was here, face-to-face with possibly the largest demon she would ever see.

It felt like a punch to the gut when she was let go.

And where she was, Elissa didn't recognize whatsoever. This wasn't the tower. She was standing on the shores of Lake Calenhad now, staring over the waves as they rolled against her boots. The moon was far overhead, so it was late, but when they had reached the tower, it had been dawn. A new day had barely broke when they convinced the templar guard to take them across the lake to the tower.

Elissa was staring at it when she realized she was in control of her body again. Ankle deep in freezing cold water, staring at the moon and the monstrosity of a spiral. She yelped in surprise, springing out of the lake and onto the sand. Was she barefoot?

Annoyed more than anything now, Elissa sought out for the boots she thought she was wearing, and couldn't seem to find them. As a matter of fact, she couldn't find anything. She had on her tunic and a pair of loose fitting trousers, but she wasn't armed. Her armor was nowhere to be found, either, and now she truly felt that autumn air.

Thankfully, whatever sense that spirit had left her close to the inn at the docks. It was a short walk, lamplight in the windows easily visible from where she found herself. The grass, however cold it might be, did feel good underfoot, and did work to help dry her skin. It was also easy to wipe the sand sticking to her soles off. If there was anything to be grateful for right now, it was that small pleasure.

Zevran was sitting out front, leaned up against the doorframe, twirling one of his daggers on a gloves fingertip. He seemed so entranced, so focused, but that immediately dropped as Elissa came marching up to him.

"Ah, hello, Warden," he said.

That accent of his rolled right off his tongue. It sounded like the elf was purring.

"Where's Morrigan?" Elissa demanded.

Zevran shrugged. "In her room, perhaps."

"And which one is that?"

* * *

Elissa was so desperate for sleep she wasn't even sure how she found her room. Between their panicked march north and whatever she had experienced today, her body was absolutely crying for rest.

She shrugged her way into the room, eyes falling immediately on her weapons and armor, folded neatly in a stack on one of the two beds. The spirit had been kind enough to do that, apparently, however ridiculous it was.

_She was possessed._

How absolutely fucking absurd. There was no way. It was impossible. Elissa could barely figure out how to use magic. She couldn't even cast an actual spell, just throw around energy until something worked, and she was possessed.

What kind of demon wanted to possess such a clueless moron?

The very idea of it made chills run down Elissa's spine, but she pushed the thoughts and feelings aside. It wasn't a demon, that much was certain. Morrigan had been able to deduce that much, thankfully. It was simply a spirit that took a liking to Elissa at some point in her life, likely at the tower. The Veil was almost non-existent inside the building, that much was obvious even to her. She felt very, very unsafe even here at the docks. She could feel the imbalance.

But Elissa knew better. This thing had been with her her entire life. It was what gave her the energy she needed to carry on when she felt like she was about to drop. It was what casted the few spells she'd ever used.

For whatever reason, this spirit had bound itself to Elissa, and she had somehow remained pure enough to its ideal that it stayed benevolent.

In the Fade, it seemed content with the idea of being a spirit of hope. It had even seemed pleased when Elissa came to that conclusion, but then, how had she managed to keep it so safe? Elissa was well aware she had a lot of problems. Literally anything could send a spirit over the edge and turn it into a demon. Any throw from its virtue, Morrigan said, could be the catalyst.

Elissa had felt pretty fucking hopeless before, and yet it was still, to her knowledge, a happy little thing. It had never made her blackout like that before, so she figured it was happy, anyway.

If it wasn't hopelessness that would corrupt the spirit, and in turn, Elissa, what was it? What was she dealing with?

Groaning, Elissa threw her belongings to the floor and collapsed on the mattress. All thoughts and worries were buried, suffocated. None of that mattered. None of it. Whatever past insecurities she had, couldn't affect her now, for her own sake and that of those around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I haven't really done these notes before, but I wanted to say thank you for all the support this story has gotten the last few days! It really means a lot to me that this little thing that started as a dumb idea in my head somehow has 30+ kudos, like ????? Wow! 
> 
> Thank you guys so much :)


	12. Chapter 12

_Focus._

It was there. So close, and yet so, so painfully far away. She could never quite get a grip on it. Her magic, that energy, it was always just within her grasp, and then...gone.

Frustration welled, but Elissa tampered it. The calmer she was, the further away Morrigan would remain. The smaller the risk she was, the better. If she looked like she was struggling, those fiery eyes would immediately lock on her until Morrigan decided there was no threat.

It felt like she was being treated as a child, as one of Zevran's tiny bombs, waiting to explode.

An untrained mage was always a risk, Wynne had said. It was the only reason the enchanter had agreed to provide any direction. Morrigan didn't feel like spending the time on her, and Wynne had said there were far more important things to worry about. She did, however, agree to helping a bit if Elissa could manage to set a twig aflame on her own. Otherwise, Wynne deemed it a waste of their time and energy.

After all, if she couldn't even manage a little fire, what use was magic anyway?

Elissa didn't need to cast spells, Wynne said. She just needed to be able to control herself. If she wanted help, she needed to prove it would be worth parts of their precious supplies. Lyrium potions didn't grow on trees.

Elissa never saw herself as someone like Wynne, let alone Morrigan. She never wanted to be like that. She just wanted to be more useful than another sword, but both mages, despite how much they disliked the other, had agreed that this was something they didn't need right now.

Morrigan, though, knew the full extent of Elissa's problems. She was the only one. No one else could know. No one else could know a spirit had bound itself to her.

A clang drew Elissa from her frustrations. Sten and Alistair were sparring; Aedan had elected to take the night off, and both of the other two men had wanted a little practice, so here they were. Sten was so...large that Elissa thought seeing a qunari on the opposite end of her blade would shake her to her core. And Alistair...she had thought he was a rather broad man, but Maker, Sten dwarfed him in every way. Sten's arms were longer. Sten was stronger. He was taller. He had the reach over him.

She was impressed with Alistair, though. He knew to use Sten's size against him; her fellow Warden was staying just too close, just too far in to Sten's sword to make it uncomfortable for his opponent, but perfect for himself.

"Hey."

Aedan's voice caught her attention. She straightened as he sat next to her, folding his arms across his knees.

"Hey," she repeated.

He didn't reply, so Elissa returned her gaze to Alistair and Sten. It was a close match. Alistair was smarter than he gave himself credit for, but Sten was just bigger. Alistair couldn't quite get an edge as he tried to batter his way past Sten's defenses. Then again, Sten couldn't get past Alistair's either, but it was obvious who was tiring first. Sten was just more experienced, knew how to use his size to his advantage.

Alistair jumped back as Sten strode forward, driving the pommel of his greatsword into Alistair's shield. His momentum sent him reeling and he staggered. Sten slapped him with the flat of his blade. Alistair fell, and just like that, he had lost.

"You remember when that was us?" Aedan asked, smiling faintly.

Elissa smirked as Sten rebuffed Alistair's quiet plea for help up. He held his hand up, and Sten just grunted, returning to his usual space a few feet from the campfire. Alistair, being dramatic, sighed loudly, and let his head fall back in the grass.

"Yeah," Elissa said.

"I'm...glad we had that," Aedan said.

She scoffed. "You only say that because I could never beat you."

He grinned, but shook his head. "I mean, yeah, but I'm glad you didn't..." He shrugged. "I'm glad you didn't get sent away."

Elissa frowned at him for a moment, but looked away. Talking about it made her uncomfortable. She didn't want to. "It wouldn't have been so bad."

Their eyes met. His were the exact same shade of green as hers. They looked so similar, but they were twins, and Elissa was still never less amazed by how identical they could be. He was a man, yet they had the same color eyes, same nose, same dirty brown, almost blonde hair. It was so fascinating.

"You could've died in the tower," Aedan said. "Just now, with all that chaos. I would've never known you."

"Oh, I'm sure that would be a good thing," Elissa quipped. "I wouldn't be here to annoy you, right?" He smiled again, and for the first time, Elissa realized just how tired he was. There was no light to his eyes. Her eyebrows knit together, concerned. "How are you holding up?"

"That obvious, huh?"

She shrugged. "Not really, but..."

"You don't have to lie."

Elissa grinned. "Well, you do look like someone just kicked your puppy."

Aedan laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, eyes turning towards Alistair, who was now with Wynne. It seemed like she was trying to explain Maker only knows what, but Alistair was Alistair. Elissa liked him. He was silly, kind, and not all there, exactly. He wasn't stupid, no, but he was very...something. She didn't know the word.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Elissa prodded.

He nodded, swallowed deep. "I can't stop thinking about them. How I failed them."

She immediately knew what he was talking about. Elissa had successfully forgotten about Highever. There was no pain, no anger, nothing but...whatever it was. She didn't think she accepted it, but she definitely had hidden her feelings on it.

"It wasn't your fault, Aedan."

"It was, though," he said. "My room is right next to Fergus'. I should've heard. I should've been there to protect Oriana and Oren. I should've—"

Elissa put a hand on his shoulder, and he stopped talking as his voice caught in his throat. "You _cannot_ blame yourself for everything. You are one man, Aedan. One man can't stop a siege." He sighed. He wasn't listening. He didn't care. Or maybe he did, and Elissa was reading the situation wrong. "Hell, Aedan, if I could figure out how to cast a fucking spell I might've been able to save Father and we wouldn't be here."

"That one really bit him in the ass, didn't it?" Elissa snorted as he chuckled. What was this? Was this some game? "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, it's fine. We can talk about it. We probably should, all things considered."

She nodded in the general direction of the rest of camp, and again, Aedan sighed. They would be reaching Denerim in a matter of days. While Elissa's face wasn't popular outside of Highever, Aedan's was, and the laurel on his shield and both of their swords were dead giveaways. Someone was bound to recognize him, and possibly her. They would have to come clean about themselves eventually.

"I miss them," Aedan said softly.

Elissa swallowed. Immediately after Howe's betrayal, Elissa had been numb to the outside world. She wouldn't talk. She hardly ate. Aedan was the only thing that kept her going. Days, weeks, had passed from then to Ostagar, and at that point, she was just angry. She was defensive and any attempt at conversation was rebuked with attitude and spite. But the only time they'd talked of their family, Elissa had agreed with him. She had missed them too.

She couldn't say she didn't think of them. Everything she did, there was some influence. Even now, her irrational hatred towards her parents was fueled by the way she was raised. Deep down, Elissa knew it wasn't their fault. How are you supposed to handle your child being a mage? There's no support for it from anyone, just an obligation to send them away.

But they didn't send her away. They kept her home, humored her desire to be like Fergus and Aedan. Even if they weren't kind about it, her parents had kept her safe from the Chantry, and in some sick twist of fate, probably saved her from Uldred and his demons.

"I miss them too," Elissa said.

"I'm going to kill him," Aedan hissed. "Mark my words, Elissa. If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to kill Howe."

She clapped his shoulder again, but it wasn't supportive this time. It was something else. Encouragement, perhaps?

"We will get there, brother."

They sat in silence for a while. Elissa listened with half an ear to Wynne's teachings. She was trying to explain how to properly set their cooking pot above the campfire. Absentmindedly Elissa was amazed that there was a _proper_ way to do such a thing, but her mind wandered. She had been totally unprepared for this, the Blight, living and existing without someone giving her permission to do anything and everything.

She wasn't a Cousland anymore, and that was a terrifying thought. Did it scare Aedan, too?

Before she could ask, he was getting to his feet. "I'm not hungry. I think I'm going to turn in early tonight."

"Are you sure?"

Aedan nodded, surveying the camp quickly before looking back to her. "Don't forget you're on first watch tonight."

Elissa rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know."

As Aedan finished his goodbyes, Elissa became acutely aware of someone watching her. Elissa didn't have to look to know it was Leliana; she had been avoiding the Orlesian for several days now. She didn't have the heart to talk to her after...whatever that last conversation they'd had was. It was embarrassing and it made Elissa feel weak. She felt like she was relying on Leliana for...for _something,_ and that thought alone made her stomach churn.

Elissa didn't want to depend on anyone. For fucks sake, she was better than that.

She forced her eyes elsewhere. If Elissa knew anything about Leliana, though, ignoring her wouldn't make her go away. The woman was stubborn, far more than she.

She didn't know how long it took Leliana to finally make her way to where Elissa was sitting. They had been on complete opposite ends of the camp. It wasn't intentional, Elissa told herself, but she knew better. Leliana must have, too. She was far too perceptive to think Elissa just so happened to be pitching her tent on the other side of the fire every night.

"I think we should talk," Leliana said.

"Ah, my favorite pastime," Elissa remarked.

But where Leliana would normally ignore the sarcasm, she returned it with a dark glare of her own. It was surprising, to say the least. Leliana had never been anything but understanding, and this...was not that.

"I haven't been...entirely honest with you, or with Aedan," Leliana said.

Elissa frowned, and almost against her will, her hands fell from her lap to rest closer to her sword. Leliana's eyes followed the movement and they narrowed in suspicion.

That dark look, however, gave Elissa pause. She wholeheartedly believed Leliana would kill her before she drew her weapon. Leliana was a dangerous woman, and somehow, she had tricked Elissa into letting her guard down around her. Elissa had been the one preaching to kick Leliana out before, and now, Elissa would probably miss her if that actually happened. Weren't they friends?

"You know what bards are, no?"

Elissa nodded once, carefully. In Ferelden, bards were just minstrels, travelling storytellers that would stop in taverns to perform and earn coin. She'd met a few in Highever when they stopped to sing tales of the battles her father had participated in. None of them ever gave her pause, but that was because she knew what they were, knew their intentions.

In Orlais, though, bards were either just that, innocent storytellers, or they were assassins. They were extremely skilled, and there were rumors they were more efficient than even the Antivan Crows, a rumor she expected Zevran to disagree with. He seemed to be very proud of what he was and what he'd done.

"Is this the part you tell me you're a bard?"

"Was," Leliana corrected. "I _was_ a bard."

"So I was right in telling Aedan you wanted to kill us? Or is that still a no?"

She shook her head, exasperated, and said, "No. Will you let me explain before you jump to conclusions, or should I rouse your brother and tell him instead?"

"You'd probably be better off with my brother," Elissa snapped. "He's more understanding than I am."

Leliana looked away, inhaled deeply as if she was calming herself. "I'm not looking for understanding. I am trying to warn you—"

"Warn me?" Elissa scoffed. "How am I supposed to trust your warning if you couldn't even tell us the truth in the first place?"

Another deep breath. "I have not lied to you, Elissa. All I ask is that you let me explain myself."

Elissa's eyes narrowed. Leliana had earned that much from her, but Elissa couldn't even know if she had meant anything she'd said. Bards were masters of deception. How hard would it really be to convince her she just wanted to help her? Did Leliana _really_ just see someone in desperate need of a friend, or did she see an opportunity?

Nothing Leliana had said or done made Elissa think she had any malicious intent. But then, Elissa had never been good at reading people, and for all she knew, Leliana could be trying to get close to her so she wouldn't expect a knife in the back.

_But for what reason?_

There was none. None that Elissa knew of. Aside from being Orlesian, nothing Leliana did made Elissa worry about her presence. Sometimes, she could even forget Leliana existed.

"Go ahead."

Leliana nodded, grateful, and jumped right into it. She explained what she'd done, what she truly excelled at, how she learned to use a bow, and her passable training with her sword. She told her about her mentor, a woman named Marjolaine. The way she spoke, it was obvious somewhere in there Leliana had loved that woman, but it quickly became apparent that was no longer the case.

"She...betrayed me, you see," Leliana said. "I was completing an assignment for her, when I noticed the seal on the papers I was supposed to be planting. It was the Orlesian military seal. What she had gotten mixed up in, it was treason. I was worried and I foolishly tried to convince her to steal the papers back. When we did..."

Leliana trailed off, no longer maintaining the eye contact she'd held only a few moments ago. She didn't want to talk about it.

"She modified the documents to frame me as the traitor. She wounded me and left me in that estate for the guards to abuse."

Elissa should say something. Anything. It would be better than letting the silence drag on, but she didn't know what to say. What the hell was she _supposed_ to say? That she was sorry? What good would that do her?

"How did you escape?"

Elissa beat herself up as soon as the words left her mouth, but Leliana didn't seem adversely affected by them. In fact, she actually looked happy, or at least, less saddened.

She then explained how she ended up in Lothering, how a revered mother by the name of Dorothea had given her the will and the drive to save herself, and how she came to believe it was the Maker's doing that she ended up where she did. If Elissa had been through half of what Leliana described, she could understand how survival would make one believe in Him.

Hell, if they survived the Blight, Elissa might even find herself following in Leliana's footsteps.

"I should have told you sooner," Leliana said. Her voice, normally so light and content, was now heavy and strained. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Elissa said. "I wouldn't want to talk about it, either."

The smile she got in return, that would be one she'd remember for ages. It was different from the ones Leliana handed out so freely. Elissa couldn't put her finger on why, but she suspected it was because she truly meant it.

"I like to think I've made my peace with it," she said. "I do not doubt Marjolaine will come after me one day, but for now, there are other things to worry over."

"Do we ever really recover from something like that?" Elissa wondered aloud.

Leliana shrugged. "There's a story there, no?"

"For another day, yes."


	13. Chapter 13

Thank the Maker it was cold. Otherwise, they might look suspicious for wearing their cloaks, let alone scarves.

Elissa had her hood up and her scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face, just like Aedan. Her shield was wrapped with a spare blanket, as was his, and if anything needed done, Alistair was sent to handle it unless it demanded their attention.

Currently, however, both her and Aedan were out and about. It had been his idea for Morrigan, Sten, Wynne, and Zevran to stay behind. Four humans were less conspicuous wandering the market and city. The less attention they attracted, the better.

"This should be it," Alistair said. He stopped in front of a small home, gesturing with his hand. "Pretty as a painting."

Brother Genitivi's home. They were in Denerim for one reason; to find the man, get his research, and follow Redcliffe's knights on the goose chase for the Urn of Sacred Ashes. If they existed, they would heal Arl Eamon, and give them a popular face to pit against Loghain's when the Landsmeet was called.

Sure, the Cousland name was popular enough, especially around Denerim and in the north, and Aedan was known, but he wasn't the eldest son, and there was little to judge his character on. With Eamon's help, though, their small army would grow, and it would be the face they needed to truly convince Ferelden's nobility to side with them.

Perhaps enlisting his aid was the most important thing they had to worry about.

Aedan glanced at Elissa, but she shrugged. "Alistair's the one with the directions, not me." The small frown creasing his forehead deepened, but Aedan nodded, sighing deeply. He stepped past Alistair, and with one more nervous glance, knocked on the door. There was some rustling from the other side. Someone was home.

They didn't seem eager to talk.

"I'm looking for Weylon," Aedan called. "I was told he might have some clues as to Genitivi's whereabouts?"

More shuffling. Leliana flicked her eyes to Elissa's, and her hand fell to her sword. Something was wrong.

Several more painfully long seconds passed before they could hear the lock unbolting. The door opened slowly, revealing a disheveled man behind it. His clothes were haphazardly thrown on and his hair was a mess. He looked skittish, as if afraid.

Elissa didn't blame him. If four people showed up at her door, armed to the teeth, she would be frightened too.

"Are you Weylon?"

He nodded once. "You're not more knights, are you?"

"Uh, no," Aedan said. "Could we come in to talk?"

Weylon glanced over his shoulder, but nodded and beckoned them inside. Aedan went first, followed by Alistair and Leliana, and Elissa brought up the rear. She followed his stare to her sword, and she immediately dropped her hand. The man then matched her gaze. His eyes were cold, far colder than someone who was scared should be.

Weylon stepped past, leading them into a rather spacious dining area. Elissa tugged her scarf down around her neck and flicked her hood off; it was warm in here.

"You're looking for Brother Genitivi?" Weylon asked, sounding unsurprised.

Aedan nodded. "Yes. We heard he's searching for Andraste's Ashes."

"He _was_ on the trail of the Urn. Whether or not he found it...Maker only knows." Weylon sighed. "I haven't seen him in weeks. He's sent no word; it's so unlike him."

Elissa's eyes travelled over the room. Candles burnt over the table, plates were set like they were about to sit down for dinner. A book was opened on the other side. Curious, she stepped away from the conversation to inspect it. It read:

_Members of a dragon cult live in the same liar as a high dragon, nurturing and protecting its defenseless young. In exchange, the high dragon seem to permit those cultists to kill a small number of those young in order to feast on draconic blood. That blood is said to have a number of strange long-term effects, including bestowing greater strength and endurance, as well as an increased desire to kill._

She tore her eyes away from the page. The idea of people cohabitating with a dragon was unnerving.

"Perhaps the Urn has been lost for a reason. I pray for Genitivi's safety, but hope dwindles with each passing day. I-I tried to send help, but some knights came from Redcliffe looking for him not long ago. I sent them after Genitivi and they too have disappeared."

He was missing?

"Where'd you send them?" Aedan pressed.

"No, don't ask me where they went," Weylon said. "You'll go after them, and what if ill luck should befall you, too? This search is a curse, on all of us. Some things a-are not meant to be found. I know that now."

"I still need to find the Ashes."

Weylon sighed, looked at his feet. "So be it. All he said before he left was that he would be staying at an inn near Lake Calenhad, investigating something in that area."

"What was he investigating?" Elissa interjected.

His cold stare fell on her again. It was creepy. "I don't know. All I discovered from his research was that he was staying at the inn."

"But you just said he spoke to you and told you that."

"Y-yes, of course he told me, but I also went through his things to see if I could find other clues to his whereabouts."

"And you found nothing else?" Aedan said.

"N-no," Weylon said. "Everything pointed to the same place. You're wasting time. If you insist on going after Genitivi, you should leave as soon as possible."

"You said I shouldn't go looking for Genitivi, or the Urn," Aedan retorted.

"I mean...well, you seemed so earnest. If anyone is to find him, they should do it sooner rather than later."

Elissa leaned forward, spreading her hands on the table. "Or do you just not like us asking all these questions?"

"I-I'm just his assistant. I...I just follow instructions."

Aedan's eyes narrowed. "Something seems to be troubling you. Are you all right?"

"Y-yes, of course. Thank you for your concern."

He seemed so hesitant when he spoke, like he was making sure he was saying everything perfectly. He sounded like he was telling a story.

"Sometimes I don't know what to think or feel," Weylon was saying. "I want Genitivi to be rescued, but I don't want more people to be hurt. You understand, don't you?"

Aedan sighed. "Then we'll find him for you."

"I wish you good luck. May you find the answers you seek."

"Thank you," Aedan said. He nodded to them, and they followed him to the door. Weylon was hot on their heels, clearly eager to be rid of them. As they stepped back outside, Elissa heard the lock click.

"You can't tell me you bought that shit," Elissa said.

"Even I think he was being suspicious," Alistair added.

Leliana nodded her agreement. "He kept changing his story."

"First Genitivi told him where he went, then he read it in his research?" Elissa asked. "To me, that sounds like someone who doesn't know what to say."

"I can tell when people are lying," Leliana said. "He was lying."

"Or keeping something from us," Alistair said.

"Yes, I know," Aedan snapped. "But what good is pressuring him going to do us?"

"Maybe he knows what happened to Genitivi," Elissa exclaimed. "Or had some hand in it! Who knows?"

"Exactly my point," Aedan said. He waved a hand, beckoning them into an alley running parallel to the house, and whispered, "But did you notice how every door was open except one?"

"You think he was hiding something?"

"It smelled like death in there, sister."

"Sorry I can't smell anything when my nose is numb."

He scoffed and continued his path around the home. "There should be a window around here somewhere..." Only a few short steps later, they had found what Aedan was looking for. The latch inside was locked, but Leliana expertly wedged a small dagger between the panes. She hooked the tip of the blade on the latch and slowly lifted it.

The room beyond was dark, but Elissa could clearly smell the rotting stench they'd spoken of a moment ago.

"This feels wrong," Alistair whispered.

"He should have told us the truth, then," Aedan replied. He nudged the window open quietly as Leliana stepped back. "Alistair and I won't fit through here without making a ruckus. You two will have to go."

Elissa nodded and went to clamber in, but Leliana cut her off. "I'll be quieter by myself."

"We can go distract him," Aedan said. "Both of you go, just in case. Give us five minutes."

Leliana rolled her eyes, but put her hands up in defeat. Aedan was in charge, after all.

While the men went back around the front, Elissa leaned against the wall while Leliana paced back and forth. She was anxious about something, but Elissa didn't know what. This wasn't the time to be asking, either, but still, she was curious.

"You all right?" she asked.

Leliana paused, but nodded. "I don't like being here," she admitted. "I know it's foolish, but I always wonder if one of the guards will recognize me."

"It'll be fine," Elissa said. Her tone wasn't as comforting as she would have liked, but Leliana smiled gratefully nonetheless. "Besides, if they did, what would they do? What _could_ they do?"

Leliana shrugged. "It's just a silly worry."

"Maybe, maybe not."

They fell silent, if only to listen for Aedan's voice. Still nothing. The house was quiet.

"Why are you and Aedan hiding your faces?"

Elissa's eyes snapped back to Leliana's. Maker, they were so, so blue, and so, so welcoming. She hated it as much as she loved it.

Elissa cleared her throat and looked away just as quickly. "I'll tell you later."

Leliana smirked. "You keep saying that and I am still left guessing." The bard siddled up beside her, trying to make eye contact again, but Elissa forced herself to look elsewhere. This was so unbelievably strange, so uncomfortable. Again, Elissa cleared her throat. Leliana giggled. She wasn't...flirting, was she?

Before Elissa could say anything, a commotion stirred up inside. It sounded like... Elissa didn't know, but she climbed through the window without a second thought. The smell in the room was rancid. Something had died in here, was probably rotting in here.

She pulled her scarf back up and gagged, but somehow, Leliana's hand found hers, and tugged her in a different direction. The woman fumbled with something that sounded similar to a lock. A door opened, and the next thing Elissa knew, Leliana was falling back into her. A man was standing in front of them; he had a hammer in his hand.

Past him, Aedan and Alistair were both engaged in a duel with Weylon. Since they'd left him, he had acquired a sword, and he definitely looked like he knew how to use it.

The man blocking her from the others was swinging his hammer for her head this time, but she was trapped under Leliana's weight. There was blood pouring down her cheek.

Elissa barely ducked in time. She heard the hammer hit the wooden doorframe. Splinters splattered across her shoulders and neck.

_Fuck!_

She didn't have time to let Leliana down gently, so she just...let go? She had to get pretty close to the floor to get away from his weapon, anyway. It wasn't the brightest thing Elissa had ever done, but neither of them would survive if Elissa didn't fight back.

As soon as her hands were free, Elissa leapt forward, ramming her shoulder into the man's chest. He staggered backwards and she drew her sword, forgoing her shield in favor of attacking quickly. She thrust for his ribs, but he slapped the blow aside. His hammer came up just as fast. Elissa stepped to the side and pivoted, and before she saw it, she felt her sword sink into his side. It was the perfect angle—up through the ribcage, right into his heart.

When her sword came free, he fell lamely to the floor. His hammer fell with him. It wasn't anything impressive, really, just a literal hammer, but damn.

Weylon was still fighting Aedan and Alistair, but they were overwhelming him. As Alistair feinted for his shoulder, Aedan struck at his stomach. While Weylon tried to block the attack, Alistair flicked his wrist, and sunk his sword into his throat.

_Leliana._

Elissa spun and rushed back to her side. Her sword was lost somewhere along the way, faintly aware of it clattering to the floorboards.

"Oh no."

Blood was pooling under her head.

It took everything she had to refrain from panicking.

_"How do you treat a wound in battle, pup?"_

_"Stop the bleeding!"_

Elissa ripped her scarf off her face and tore it in half. Aedan was saying something, but she couldn't hear him. Alistair was leaving; Aedan was crouching beside her. He didn't do anything but watch, and she wasn't sure if she should be grateful or upset.

Elissa's hands shook as she carefully inspected Leliana's head. She was looking for the wound, but Maker, it was so dark, and her hair was red, and there was so much blood. It was so hard to see. She gave up almost immediately, instead opting to just wrap her torn scarf around her temples, and hope for the best.

"—gone to get Wynne."

Aedan's voice came back into focus and Elissa tore her eyes away from Leliana to look at him.

"She'll be fine," Aedan said.

Didn't he see how bloody she was? There was blood on Elissa's knees, her hands, her arms. It could've been from the man she killed, or it could've been Leliana's. She didn't know. She was covered in it.

Elissa squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed deeply. Leliana couldn't die. That wouldn't be fair. How many times would something she cared about get ripped away from her?

_Wait what?_

Fear welled up in her chest. It threatened to consume her. Elissa could feel herself slipping as the edges of her vision blurred, but she fought it. Her heart was racing. She could feel that thing stirring in response to her stress.

Elissa closed her eyes again, fought to get her breathing under control. This was the last place she needed to have an outburst. Only Morrigan knew about it. It needed to stay that way. That was a secret she wasn't willing to share, not with anyone, not even Aedan or Leliana.

The thin fabric had already been saturated. It wasn't helping. Why was she still bleeding?

"Wynne is coming."

Elissa just nodded. It was all she could do. She felt so numb, so scared. What was she supposed to do without Leliana? What if she died? She hadn't ever been anything but understanding, and while the last few days had given Elissa reason to suspect there had been an ulterior motive at first—what with the lies about her past—she didn't think Leliana had intended it in a malicious way. Or maybe she had, and this fear was even more irrational than it already was.

But they were friends, weren't they? Elissa had lost all the friends she already had once. She couldn't bear to do it again.

Leliana shouldn't be bleeding out in her lap. She should be able to stop this. She had to be able to. She was supposed to be able to.

Elissa never felt so strangely helpless.


	14. Chapter 14

Why was blood so hard to wash off?

Elissa's hands were raw from how long she'd been scrubbing them. Every time she thought she got it, more would appear under her nails, or in her palms. Was there even any blood at this point? Or was her skin just so red she couldn't tell?

She braced her hands on either side of the wash basin. This was what it was like to be going crazy, wasn't it? She had to be losing her mind.

When Howe had betrayed them, her father had gotten separated from her, Aedan, and their mother before any of them even knew what was going on. They'd found him fending off two of Howe's soldiers, and while he wasn't exactly old, the two younger men had overpowered him. She'd had to drag him into the larder while Aedan protected them.

Her father's blood hadn't given her a problem, but then, she'd been so numb perhaps she didn't notice how long it lingered on her hands. Leliana's, though, she felt like she was cursed to see it forever.

Nothing like watching two people you care about bleed out in your arms. Elissa had vowed to never repeat that mistake she'd made with her father, but she had, hadn't she? She couldn't cast a simple spell to save anyone's life. What kind of mage couldn't do that? It was pathetic.

For several long seconds, she regarded herself heavily in her reflection. What had happened to the resentful child that had fled Highever? What was she turning into? An abomination? An apostate? A noblewoman? A Grey Warden? Who _was_ she?

She decided instead of washing her hands until they bled, she would wash her face. It might clear her mind, help her relax. Maker knows she needed it.

Why did she have to be anything? Couldn't she just be herself?

Morrigan thought she was a clueless child flailing about in situations she didn't understand, but she had originally believed Elissa the more sensible sibling. Wynne thought she was someone who needed mothering, but it was the last thing Elissa wanted. Zevran thought she was some sex goddess to be worshipped, but Elissa never really entertained the thought of sex. Sten thought she was an idiot, but then again, he thought that about all of them. Alistair thought she was just someone lucky enough to become a Grey Warden, even luckier to be one of three to survive Ostagar.

What did Aedan think of her? He didn't disregard her skills in combat like Sten did. He didn't want to cocoon her in a protective shell like Morrigan and Wynne did. He definitely didn't think of her like Zevran did, and if anything, he was grateful she had survived Ostagar, and didn't think she was lucky like Alistair did.

What did Leliana think of her? Out of all their companions, she was the only one Elissa didn't understand. She was a perfectly logical human being, but she claimed the Maker spoke to her? Or sent her some sort of vision? Elissa didn't want to touch that subject with a ten foot pole, and Leliana had seemed happy enough with that, but what did she think Elissa was?

By the door, Sam whined. He was Aedan's mabari, but he spent just as much time with her as he did Aedan. He knew they were two totally different people. He didn't seem to care that Aedan was who he imprinted on. Elissa was just as good to him.

"Me too, buddy," Elissa said.

At least she had Sam to count on. No matter who she was, Sam wouldn't care.

She just hoped Leliana would pull through. Wynne said her skull had been cracked and that it was very lucky she got there when she did. If Elissa hadn't done her best, she probably would have died. She very well still could. She'd lost a lot of blood.

Elissa was really regretting sharing a room with her, though. Wynne insisted she stay out until Leliana woke on her own, but all of her stuff was in their room, so she couldn't even change into different clothes. She doubted Wynne would really enforce that rule; it was still safer to just avoid an argument to just pretend she was listening.

It also left her extremely bored. She was stuck in Wynne's room while she waited. It was the exact same as her room, but something about it made her feel like she couldn't touch anything without invading Wynne's privacy.

These rooms were extremely expensive. They didn't have much coin to begin with, so they'd had to double up. Wynne and Morrigan were supposed to share, but Morrigan hadn't spent any time here whatsoever, so that was a waste. At least they weren't paying for Bodahn and Sandal's room. The two dwarves had branched off at the forest to search for wares to keep up their stock, had met up with them in Redcliffe, and agreed to meet them again at Orzammar.

Then again, they probably thought they were dead. Aedan had made the arrangement to be in Orzammar within a month, but it would take up the remainder of their time just to get halfway there. They hadn't counted on the Circle being in a crisis, or finding the Urn of Sacred Ashes being another crisis in its own way.

Elissa dropped on the floor next to Sam, who immediately moved his head into her lap. Again, he whined, unsatisfied until she rubbed his ears. If he wasn't a mabari, Elissa thought he'd be a great lapdog. He loved attention.

Eventually she ended up laying on him while he sprawled out. His short fur was soft. He made a good pillow and he seemed relaxed enough she might be able to nap on him. She was so worried and anxious; she didn't know how she had any energy left whatsoever. It had been such a taxing day. Sleep would be good.

Or maybe not sitting around. A drink would be good, too. If she got drunk, she wouldn't have to think. That sounded like a good time.

* * *

Elissa had situated herself in a corner. It was right by the bar with full view of the dining room and the stairs leading to their rooms. None of the patrons seemed to mind her; to them, she was just another traveler looking to enjoy what little hospitality one could find during the Blight.

There were plenty of nobles milling around, though she didn't recognize any. Elissa never met many people face-to-face, but it would be hard to miss anyone of actual import. Thankfully, however, since many of the nobles here were rather useless, that meant they didn't have to worry about Aedan being recognized, either.

Speaking of Aedan, when the hell would he be back? She didn't even remember where he went. He'd told her, of course, but she'd elected to remain at the tavern with Wynne and Leliana while they went out. She hadn't heard what he said, just knew he said he'd be leaving for a few hours. Had it been a few hours, she wondered? Or had it barely been one?

At her feet, Sam stirred. The front door had opened, allowing the stench of the outside world to permeate the already overpowering odor inside. In marched five men, all tall and broad-shouldered, like they'd spent their lives swinging swords and beating people into the dirt. They were armed—the two in the rear had longswords and shields, while the other three had greatswords.

The heraldry stamped into their chestplates...

Elissa had been in the middle of taking a drink, but she immediately set the mug down and nudged Sam with a toe. Even as she stood, she could feel rage boiling through her veins, but she fought to keep it under control.

Five bears, five knights from Amaranthine, _five of Howe's men._

Why didn't they expect this? Wasn't he the Arl of Denerim now?

She could see the hair on Sam's shoulders standing on end. He understood, but she was heading for the steps, so he followed. This wasn't a good place to confront them. This wouldn't help. Fighting them would do nothing, and besides, there were _five_ of them, and one of her. In no way would she be able to beat them, armed or not.

Elissa had barely set foot on the first step when a hand locked around her shoulder. It spun her and his other hand shot forward, locking around her throat.

For a half a second, he eyed her up and down, and she knew. He recognized her. How could he not? Howe would've known they'd survived when they hadn't found their bodies. He would've known when Aedan sent Loghain's man running along at Lothering. He would've told his men to keep an eye out for either of them.

Coming to Denerim was a mistake.

Before he could do anything further, however, Sam snapped his jaws around the man's knee. He cried out in pain, almost in perfect synchronization with the screams of surprise throughout the tavern. The barkeep yelled something, but as soon as his hand released her throat, Elissa doubled over.

She coughed as air flooded her straining lungs. The soldier was struggling with Sam's iron grip. He had been the only one to approach her, his friends having gone to order drinks, but now that he was screaming, they were taking notice.

"Sam..." Her voice gave out, but the hound got the message. He let go of the man's leg and followed as Elissa struggled up the stairs. She ran along the balcony as the shouting increased. Somewhere in there, she swore she heard "Cousland."

Oh, they definitely knew.

Elissa threw herself on the door to her room. Just down the hall, Howe's men were giving chase, but by the time they reached the door, she had slammed it shut, with her and Sam safely inside.

"What are you—"

Wynne's voice was cut off by slamming on the door. It would only be a matter of seconds before they either ended up with a key or broke it down.

It was then she realized she led them straight to Leliana, straight to Wynne, and she had left her sword in Wynne's room.

But on the table with her things, was their family sword. Aedan must've left it there before leaving. They hadn't wanted to bring it into the city with them, but they had little options. Earlier, they had left it with Sten, who apparently understood why swords were so precious, for some Maker forsaken reason. Now, he must've elected to leave it with Elissa, but he couldn't have known Wynne would dismiss her.

She had never even held the damn thing, but she grabbed it anyway.

"What is going on?"

Elissa coughed. Her throat was burning. "Bar...fight."

The sword felt so awkward in her hand. The entire weapon was made from metal, whereas hers had a steel blade and wooden hilt. The hilt was longer and the blade was longer as well; her sword was little more than a shortsword, with just a little more reach. This one had enough space for both of her hands on the pommel if she wrapped them around each other.

But weirdly, it felt good. It wasn't what she was used to, but it felt better.

The ruckus outside calmed for a moment. Sam lowered himself to the ground, growling, and Elissa pointed the sword at the door. As soon as it opened, she would have to get them into the hallway. Leliana was still unconscious and Wynne couldn't really defend herself—if she used magic, this close to the Chantry...

One slam. The doorknob rattled and Elissa steeled herself.

When was the last time this sword had actually seen combat?

Another slam. It sounded like they were kicking it.

It looked as if it had just been sharpened. Was that Aedan? Did he care so much about their sword?

The lock cracked as the door gave way. It wasn't wide enough for them to come in at once, and Sam took down the first of four. Elissa went past him, pressuring the second backwards to protect Aedan's dog.

They would have to leave the moment Leliana was awake, if not sooner.

The hallway wasn't very wide, so it worked out in Elissa's favor. Two men weren't nearly as hard to fight as three, let alone five. Briefly, she wondered where the fifth had gone, but the two men in front of her didn't give her much time to think. They launched into a series of blows only a practiced man could execute so flawlessly.

_Left, right, left, right, left..._

Elissa blocked a jab for her chest and the soldier stepped in, locking their crossguards. The other took the opening, but Elissa ducked, throwing herself back into the wall while simultaneously freeing her sword. He staggered past, committed to the momentum, and she went on the offensive. Without a shield, it would be hard to stick with her normal fighting style. She couldn't hide behind it and wait for an opportunity. She had to make her own.

They crossed blades again, but this time, she was the one who stepped in. She kneed him in the stomach, leapt back, and drove the sword up through his chest. That was one man down. Two to go.

The one who had been in the back was now coming for her, but she was distantly aware of the one who stumbled coming as well. That weightless feeling was coming back. She was stressed and that stupid spirit was waking up.

"No," Elissa hissed.

Her sword went back over her shoulder to catch his, and she leaned to the side to avoid the other. Her movement. Hers. She chose to take the fight that way.

The weight on her shoulder was gone as Sam dragged down a third. The sound of him ripping into someone's throat was jarring. It was disturbingly meaty, like he was just biting into some animal, even though it was a person.

One on one now. This one had a greatsword and the hallway was cramped. She had an advantage.

Elissa moved first. She feinted a stab for his ribs and at the last second, switched to his bicep. He smacked her sword aside with his pommel, careless, and swung around for her throat. Elissa caught the blow, but he was stronger than she anticipated, and had to use both hands to hold him off.

He leaned into her and she stumbled under the weight. Her knees buckled as she fell to them. Sam came for his ankle, but he kicked. It caught him right in the jaw and Sam fell, squealing.

"Hey!"

Aedan's voice.

The distraction was just enough for her to get back on her feet. She threw his sword off, and while he was reeling, she shoved the sword through his neck.

Aedan came bounding down the hall, Alistair and Zevran on his heels, as she slouched against the wall. Her arms were screaming, her throat hurt, and holy fuck, somehow she'd survived.

Thank the Maker for Sam.


	15. Chapter 15

It really was a beautiful weapon. Elissa couldn't remember how old it was, but she knew it was old enough that it should be set aside as a momento, not something to carry into battle.

"Keep it," Aedan said.

He was persistent, and she felt...something. Holding their family sword had felt different in a good way. She thought her sword had felt like an extension of her arm, but this one... It felt like it was made for her. As impossible as it was, Elissa hadn't felt so good in a fight in her entire life. The blade was perfectly balanced, and the hilt, with some linen added, fit in her hands in a way she couldn't explain. It was, literally, as perfect a weapon as anyone could get.

"I shouldn't," Elissa said. "You're the oldest. It should be yours."

Aedan shook his head, saying, "I feel like I'd snap it in half. It's too light." He shrugged. "Or maybe you're too weak to carry a real sword?"

She elbowed him as he chuckled, but her eyes were running over the blade. There was a groove down the center of it, shooting to about the halfway point. Old runes glowed faintly, but what the enchantments did had been lost to time. Not even Aldous had known, and it seemed like that crusty old librarian had known everything.

"One of us should have it," Aedan insisted, again serious. "Wouldn't it be fitting to kill Howe with it?"

Elissa sighed. "I suppose."

"How fantastic of a story would it be? A Cousland carrying their family weapon into battle and smiting the Archdemon with it?"

She eyed him, trying her hardest to not laugh. "You don't want any glory for yourself? Suddenly I'm the one killing Howe _and_ the Archdemon?"

He grinned. "I have to keep your spirits up somehow, don't I?"

"By lying?"

His grin only broadened, but before she could come up with something else to say, Alistair weaseled his way to their side, sitting solidly in front of them. He looked anxious, which wasn't necessarily something new, but he had never been so open in front of Elissa before. That had to mean she was doing something right.

"Can I talk to you?" he whispered.

Aedan and Elissa exchanged looks, but Aedan nodded. Alistair fidgeted with his hands for a moment, so Elissa took the silence as an opportunity to sheathe her new sword. Even the scabbard was well taken care of. It must've meant a lot to their father.

"So...you're...nobility," Alistair said.

After fleeing Denerim, Aedan had finally revealed their parentage, in a similar fashion to Alistair. Wynne seemed like the only one who was surprised about their background, save Alistair himself. He had looked hurt at first, spent the last few hours moping, but it seemed he must've gotten over it, as he was now talking to them about it.

"Last I checked, we're Grey Wardens now," Elissa said. "No claim to anything, unless that changed when I wasn't looking."

Alistair made a face at her, exasperated. "Do you think anyone here really cares about that?"

"Loghain probably does," Aedan said. "Most of the nobles probably do, come to think of it."

He ran his hands down his face. Was he trying to be serious? What in the Maker's name could be wrong now?

"Look, I...I know what Eamon's like," Alistair said. "Ferelden will need a new leader when the Blight is over. He'll try to push me to be king, but..."

"But you don't want that?" Elissa surmised.

He nodded. "No, Maker no. I'd be a terrible king. Sometimes I still have problems putting the right boot on." She had to bite her tongue to match Aedan's perfect expression. "I was thinking...or I had this idea. The Couslands are the only teyrns left in Ferelden aside from Loghain, but his house hasn't been around as long as yours has. Your family is the most powerful in Ferelden."

 _Was,_ Elissa thought bitterly. Aedan hadn't had the heart to tell them how exactly they'd become Wardens, and Elissa didn't want to force him to. Alistair, like everyone else, believed their family was still alive. Maker, lying their way through why they'd been attacked in Denerim had been a trip. Morrigan had obviously not bought it, and she doubted Zevran had, either. In fact, the only person Elissa thought had been convinced was, ironically, Alistair.

"Our family is gone, Alistair," Aedan whispered.

"What?"

Aedan shook his head. His fists clenched, and Elissa put a hand on his shoulder. "Before we became Wardens, Duncan...he had to get us out of Highever. Our father had sent our forces south ahead of him and Arl Howe, whose forces had been 'delayed," Elissa said. "He...attacked our castle during the night. Aedan and I are the only ones who survived."

"Oh." Alistair looked down at his hands, and then back up at them. "I'm sorry. I've been rather selfish, haven't I? Moping about Duncan. I hadn't once thought—"

"It's fine," Aedan interrupted. "I'd rather not talk about it now. We can't change what happened, anyway."

"Fair enough."

"Anyway?" Elissa urged.

Alistair cleared his throat. "Uh...yes. What I was asking..." He rubbed the back of his neck. The longer this conversation went on, the more apprehensive he seemed to get. "Either of you would have more claim to the throne than I do. I'm a bastard. I'm a nobody, but—"

Elissa laughed. The idea of it was so absurd, so strange. Ferelden had _always_ been ruled by a Theirin. The only time it wasn't, was when it was occupied by Orlais, and even then, the rebellion had been led by the family. No one had ever entertained the idea of a different family ascending to the throne. There had never been a reason to.

Until now, perhaps?

"No," Elissa said. "No, that's ridiculous."

"You'd rather leave it to Anora?" Alistair retorted. "Her father betrayed us at Ostagar!"

She started to argue, but Aedan cut her off. "We don't need to worry about this right now."

"We do," Alistair said.

"And what if Eamon doesn't survive?" Aedan said. His tone was sharp. "What if he doesn't wake up? Then what? This conversation will be a waste of all our time, and you can probably just pretend you never told anyone who your father is."

Alistair did have a point, though. The Theirins and the Couslands were two of the oldest and most powerful families in Ferelden. If _anyone_ was to take the throne at the end of this, it would most likely come down to them, had they not been Grey Wardens.

"I think we should consider it," Elissa said.

"What?"

They said it in unison, which meant Alistair had either not expected their support at all, or that he had expected her to be his critic, and not Aedan.

"Elissa—"

"He's right," she said, more forcefully. "There is no proof Maric was his father, Aedan. All we'd have is his word, and Eamon's, and that's not much, but people know us. They know who we are. They know _you,_ specifically. The Guerrins are a respected family and the Landsmeet will probably listen to Eamon, but you're the rightful teyrn of Highever. Eamon is an arl. Your title would carry more weight than his own. _Your word_ would carry more weight than his."

"I don't want to be king," Aedan said.

"Neither do I," Alistair said, "but you would be better at it than me."

Aedan shook his head as he stood. "No, I... I need to think about this before I even consider it."

He whistled. Sam immediately hopped to his feet to follow his master out of camp and into the trees.

Alistair sighed, directed his gaze back to her. "I, uh...I am sorry. About your family, I mean."

She just nodded absentmindedly. "Thank you, Alistair." He gave her a half-hearted smile and made to follow Aedan's move to leave, but she added, "I'm sorry about Duncan. And the other Wardens."

She tried to return his smile, but everything felt so solemn now, so serious, and so grim. All Elissa could manage was a weak, lopsided grin.

"Thank you," Alistair muttered. He too left her sitting, alone now, but she was fine with that. She had a lot to think about. It would be good to think now, while Aedan was off with his own thoughts, and while Leliana couldn't distract her.

But then, she was doing it now, wasn't she? Every time Elissa even thought her name, everything else was pushed away. Nothing else was as important, as worrying, as Leliana was, and part of Elissa hated it. The other revelled in it. Leliana had lied to her, to all of them, and Elissa still found herself drawn to the bard. Her secret was one that could get them killed.

So was hers, though, wasn't it?

Everyone in this party was hiding something. Aedan and Alistair's secrets were out now. Alistair was a royal bastard. Aedan and her were disgraced nobles. Wynne was possessed or something; Elissa hadn't figured out yet. Everyone else, though, they were all mysteries to her.

Secrets were dangerous. They could get them killed. Hers and Aedan's almost did. Howe's men had happened upon Elissa by accident, but one had escaped, and most likely had told Howe and Loghain about her. Howe was an idiot, but Loghain was not.

They needed to put more ground between them and Denerim.

Elissa just shook her head, mostly at herself. What were they going to do? She hadn't ever really thought about it, but it was disgusting how easily Loghain turned the entire country against them. They, who were the only Grey Wardens left, in a country being ravaged by the Blight, had bigger targets on their backs than the Archdemon itself.

Elissa shuddered at the very thought. She had only dreamt of the thing once, but once was enough. Was it too much to hope that the dragon would just keel over and die on its own?

Eventually, Elissa got up. She didn't know what to do with herself, anyway, so might as well...do something. Aedan was off doing whatever it was he was doing, Leliana was off limits, and Sam had gone with Aedan, so she was, effectively, alone.

She could try practicing her magic, but that would probably be as fruitless as it had been before. She had no interest in frustrating herself at the moment.

But she should try, shouldn't she? Leliana wouldn't be where she was now if Elissa could've healed her. It would take a lot of strain off Wynne, who was now the self-appointed group healer. If only she could just... _figure it out._

While she stood, she promised herself to try. Just once. If anything impressive happened, she would keep trying. And if it didn't, she would give up and find something else to do.

So she tried. She envisioned a small light hovering in her hand, a simple spell Wynne said most mages learned and mastered before anything else. Bright white, so bright it burned her eyes even though it wasn't real.

Deep inside her, there was a stirring. It was so rare a feeling, so fleeting, that she hardly even recognized it. She could count on her hand the number of times she'd felt that before.

But just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

"A staff might improve your situation," Wynne commented.

Elissa spun on her heel, spooked. "No, I'm not even going to entertain that."

One white eyebrow raised in question. "And why not? It would help channel your power." Elissa laughed, shook her head, and before she could speak, Wynne asked, "Are you afraid of being a mage?" Elissa's eyes narrowed as she stopped laughing. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed of anything, thank you," Elissa retorted. It was her turn to cut someone off. "How's Leliana? Is she awake?"

Wynne frowned, but thankfully, didn't press the matter further. "Yes and no. She's resting now, but it was her own decision, not mine."

"Can I see her?"

Anything to get away from the old bat. _Please say yes._

Wynne's nod was all Elissa needed to dismiss herself. Three quick strides, and she was across camp, ducking into her tent.

Leliana groaned in annoyance. "Wynne, I—"

"It's me," Elissa said quickly.

Leliana looked over her shoulder, and then slowly, rolled to face her. She scowled, probably from straining herself with quick movements. "Thank the Maker. I know she's trying to help, but..."

"Overbearing?" Elissa asked.

Leliana didn't say anything, so Elissa assumed she was correct. The bard had her eyes closed now and was breathing deep, but she was still shifting around in an attempt to get comfortable.

There wasn't much room. It was awkward trying to sit without also sitting on Leliana, but somehow she managed it.

"How are you feeling?" Elissa asked.

"Terrible," Leliana grumbled. "Wynne forced me to drink some potion. It tasted like ass and my stomach hurts on top of my head."

Elissa arched an eyebrow and whistled in amazement. "You know those words? Can sisters say them, or is that an insult to the Maker?"

One blue eye opened itself, regarding Elissa heavily, and she just grinned. Leliana closed her eye just as quickly. For a half a second, Elissa thought she offended her and wanted to apologize, but Leliana said, "You're an ass." She was sure if she wasn't tired, she would've rolled her eyes.

"Well...yeah."

Silence overtook them. Leliana didn't move or speak, just laid there peacefully, and Elissa busied herself looking elsewhere. She felt awkward in that situation; she wanted to spend time with her, against her better judgement or not, but didn't want to be caught wanting that, by Leliana or anybody else. Leliana would win if Elissa gave in, and she was determined to not lose. Whatever she was losing at, however, was lost on her. Was she trying to prove a point? Or was she just being stubborn?

"Wynne said you saved me," Leliana mumbled.

Elissa was caught off-guard. She thought Leliana might've fallen asleep. It would've been the perfect excuse to flee another awkward situation. "Uh, no, I didn't. I didn't do anything."

"She said you stopped the bleeding."

"It..." Elissa looked down at her hands as soon as Leliana reopened her eyes. "There wasn't a lot of blood. It wasn't that bad."

"Head wounds bleed a lot."

"Okay, maybe you ruined my favorite pair of pants."

Leliana huffed, and there it was. The eye roll. Elissa had been waiting for it. Whenever she said something sarcastic or stupid, Leliana would just roll her eyes and go with it. And if it had been anyone else, Elissa probably would've hit them. Eye rolling had been her thing to do, but when Leliana did it, it was funny, and how can she be offended when it's funny?

"Thank you, Elissa."

That was twice now she'd been seriously thanked in one day. Twice! She never did anything that warranted gratitude. She actively avoided putting herself in those situations, but both Alistair and Leliana had thanked her in the last half hour.

"I owed you."

"For what?"

"Back when the darkspawn ambushed us. When Aedan was wounded? You saved me. I owed you."

Leliana sighed. "That was weeks ago."

"Well... I still owed you."

"Please stop saying that."

"I owed you."

Leliana rolled back over, quicker this time, and Elissa chuckled. "You're more annoying than Wynne."

"I see our positions have been reversed, then?"

She was quiet for a minute. "No."

Elissa grinned triumphantly and got up on her knees. "I'll let you rest."

Before she could excuse herself, though, one of Leliana's hands shot out and locked around her wrist. Elissa almost jumped again. "Don't go."

Leliana looked as surprised as Elissa when the words left her mouth.

"I...I've been having bad dreams," Leliana stammered. "Will you stay?" She paused, and then added, "Please?"

"Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?"

Internally, Elissa was screaming.


	16. Chapter 16

Aedan was always light on his feet. It was an advantage he'd held over Fergus when they were teenagers.

Elissa, however, was always going to be the smallest. The armor she wore was lighter than either of her brothers', and her sword was shorter. It would give her an advantage if she got in close when they were sparring—it would be far less awkward to maneuver her weapon, and it would be easier to dart away when they'd try to retaliate.

As of late, Aedan had adopted a far more aggressive fighting style from his sparring with Zevran. It would help him if a genlock got past his shield and he was eager to try it out. They hadn't run into darkspawn since heading north.

It put Elissa on edge. Lothering was gone; it would only be a matter of time before places like Redcliffe and Gwaren would follow. Aedan had been pushing them hard to reach the Frostbacks. Not only would it get them farther from Denerim, but it would get them closer to the village Genitivi's notes described, and to the dwarves.

Morrigan was gone, scouting ahead in search of the town. She could travel the fastest. It was so simple for her to shift into a bird, and Elissa was still struggling with simple spells. It frustrated her to no end. She felt useless.

"You ready?" Aedan asked.

His hand was on the visor to his helmet. They'd run into a trader travelling north and Aedan had been quick to stock up on any necessities. New blankets, some gloves for anyone who needed them. Bodahn hadn't had much in the way of winter gear, surprisingly, so it was sorely needed.

Elissa had bought socks. That's all she felt she needed anyway. Her hair had always gotten caught in helmets at the worst times, so she figured it was easier and safer to avoid that potential annoyance.

Aedan had disagreed. Both him and Alistair were now outfitted with their own. Sten was not, but only because there wasn't one he found suitable. That had been a strange discussion with the merchant, Elissa was sure.

She settled into a crouch and lifted her shield over her chest. When she nodded, Aedan followed suit, and the clang of his visor locking into place ripped Elissa firmly into the present.

How long had it been since they sparred? Weeks? Months? Elissa couldn't remember. She would be out of practice. She just hoped Aedan would be as unprepared as she was. The majority of their camp had gathered to watch; she had to impress. Even if she didn't beat him—which she expected—she wanted to make it difficult for him.

Aedan had always bested her, no contest. She had always slipped up. One mistake, and Aedan was always ready to take advantage. Elissa was determined to not have another repeat failure.

He paced. Just a few short steps, but he always did that. He said it helped him keep his muscles from locking out early, but Elissa didn't really understand the thought process. She never had that problem.

It was strange to be on the other side of his sword again. It was roughly the same length as her new weapon, if not a little longer, but only one side was sharp. Why he chose such a detriment, Elissa didn't understand, but it did make it good for hacking at things. It just wouldn't be as effective as hers at stabbing.

That was definitely not something she would be utilizing here.

Elissa was loathe to strike first, but it seemed Aedan was as well. Perhaps he was as equally hesitant as she was. Maybe he was worried she'd beat him?

His breath was coming out of his visor steadily until now. She was wrong. He'd sized her up; he was going to attack.

Elissa flexed her grip on her shield, lowered herself another inch as he leapt forward. She ducked and caught the tip of his sword on the top of her shield. There wasn't much resistance when she slapped his blade aside. He moved too quickly for her to realize he'd wanted her to do that—as soon as she was distracted, he drove the dull side of his sword under her arm and towards her ribs. Elissa barely had the time to dance to the side.

"You've gotten slower," Aedan commented.

She dove forward at the same time he did and their swords collided. Before, that would've jarred her into retreating, but she'd gotten stronger over the course of their ventures. It would've been hard not to; darkspawn throwing their entire body weight into every single attack they made was a lot of mass to hold off.

Aedan broke away first, stepping back only to step in again, but again, Elissa skirted away, past his shield, and slapped the flat of her blade off his ribs.

He grunted and shoved her away, but it was enough. She grinned as she settled behind her shield. "You sure about that, brother?"

Aedan didn't waste another second. He came at her again, first stabbing for her thigh, but then feinting to her shoulder. Elissa leaned away. She'd always been more defensive in battle, and at one point, had been interested in changing her fighting style to be a healthier mix of offense and defense. Her size would be an advantage either way—she would be small enough to dodge attacks rather than beat them back, or she would be faster and able to wear her opponent down quickly.

Elissa decided to try the latter. Aedan was an experienced swordsman, so he most likely wouldn't tire any time soon, but she could try. Besides, she wanted to give him a real fight, and just avoiding him wouldn't be as impressive as actually fighting him.

He was sizing her up yet again, looking for any gaps or weaknesses, but it was hard to make any noticeable mistakes these days. Fighting constantly would tend to show you what you did wrong, and if you didn't learn, you'd end up dead.

Elissa was determined to survive the Blight, so that didn't leave her many options.

She moved first this time. He was taller, so instead of trying to slap the side of his head, she went for his knee, and when he adjusted to match, she flicked her wrist up towards his helmet. Aedan was just as quick, though, and caught her sword with his. She immediately disengaged and brought her arm back, aiming under his arm for his stomach. He parried, swung for her chest while she was exposed.

Something in her stomach clenched and threw her backwards in a roll. It was a sinking feeling, one she recognized immediately, and panic set in.

_No, no, no, no, no! Not now!_

That stupid creature was trying to fight Aedan for her.

Elissa shook her head once in a weak attempt to clear it, but she was still on her knees, and there was no way to communicate to Aedan to stop without losing focus.

He came forward, she was vaguely aware of that much. When he went to strike, to knock her down and force her to yield, Elissa was thrown to her feet. She half expected to black out for the split second it took her to stand, but it was her standing there, not that thing. It was stirring, but it wasn't...it didn't feel threatened, did it?

Time seemed to slow as his sword fell, but not for her. Without thinking, she yanked her sword up to catch his, and as their blades collided, Aedan was moving just as fast as he originally was.

Elissa's eyes flicked to the others—Alistair, Wynne, and Leliana. The mage leaned forward as Elissa was forced to tear her eyes away again. Aedan was trying to pressure her, batter her down and wear her out. She matched him blow for blow, quickening her own pace until he had to throw his shield between them. That caught her off-guard and she retreated a few steps.

Her heart was racing. Every breath was heavy while she tried to slow it, but she felt energized. She could do this for hours and not tire. Hell, she felt like she could run forever. This was _effortless._

"That was a neat little trick," Aedan said, gesturing to the ground with his swordpoint, "but I'm still going to win."

"I don't know about that," Elissa retorted, though if it was from confidence or bluster, she didn't know. All she knew was she felt better than she ever had. She felt like she could fight the entire darkspawn horde on her own right now.

She slid back into her crouch as Aedan pulled his helmet off. He was sweating, but Elissa didn't even feel warm. She felt as close to perfect as possible.

"Come on, then," he said, grimacing.

Elissa was happy to oblige. Before, everything that had come with this feeling was blinded by rage and frustration. It hadn't happened many times—she was sure she could count how many on one hand, but she couldn't remember. All she felt now was determination.

This was going to be the first time she beat her brother. Nothing was going to come between her and victory.

Aedan's expression spoke a thousand words. He was focused on every blow, on every parry, every block. He kept up at first, but again, Elissa quickened her pace, pushing herself to her limit and beyond Aedan's. He slipped, just once, but it was enough. Their swords locked and Elissa stepped in first, sliding her blade down the length of his. With a flick of her wrist, her crossguard caught his, and she flung his sword from his grasp.

The tip of her sword came up to his neck and he grinned. Sweat was pouring down his face and he was panting, but he was still grinning.

"I yield."

Only when he admitted defeat did Elissa let herself smile. She dropped her sword to her side, sucked in a huge breath, and passed out.

* * *

Her head was pounding and her ears were ringing. Every muscle in her body ached, screamed in protest as she opened her eyes. Her throat was drier than dirt; she could feel it in her lips. She needed water. Luckily enough, her things were close by, and someone had filled her canteen for her.

Water had never _tasted so good._

Elissa gulped down every last drop and she was still parched. What the hell was this unquenchable thirst?

She flopped over backwards and let the empty canteen fall beside her. Her chest was heaving. It felt like she'd forgotten how to breathe while she'd been asleep.

No, not asleep. She was unconscious.

What had happened to her? The last thing she could remember, her and Aedan were sparring, and then...what? Had he hit her in the head? No, he wouldn't do that. She had faked it a few times, that much she could remember, and so had he, but they knew better than to try to injure each other. They both needed to be at their peak. If they weren't, then... Elissa didn't want to think about it.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose, praying for relief. Nothing had ever hurt so bad.

There was a rustling outside, and some hushed whispers. It sounded like arguing. Whatever it was, it was too loud, but the next thing Elissa knew, Leliana was poking her head through the tent flaps.

"Oh, good! You're awake."

"Shh," Elissa begged.

Leliana winced and muttered a quick apology. She held something out and inched further inside, saying, "Wynne thinks this might help."

Elissa sat up, reaching forward, and eyed the dark blue liquid suspiciously. "You're kidding."

Leliana shrugged and motioned for her to try.

"Just one sip!" Wynne said. "They're hard to come by."

Elissa looked from Leliana to the vial, and then to Leliana, and back down to the vial. She was skeptical. There was no way. It would be almost impossible. Elissa couldn't use magic. No. This wasn't real.

Leliana rolled her eyes and snatched the vial back, popping the cork out for her.

"That...wasn't what I meant," Elissa mumbled. "Sorry."

"Drink it," Leliana urged.

Another suspicious glance at the bard, and Elissa lifted the flask to her mouth. She hesitated, sniffed once, grimaced in disgust. It smelled like liquid metal. She was supposed to drink it?

Leliana nodded once, as if reading her mind, and Elissa sighed. What did she have to lose?

She put the vial to her lips and let the smallest amount of the potion trickle down her throat, and Maker, did that make a difference. She felt it hit her stomach, but it was working far before then. The thirst was the first thing to go. Her headache followed mere seconds later. There was no ringing in her ears, no fatigue in her body. Elissa didn't feel as good as new, but she felt much, much better.

"Did it help?" Leliana pressed.

Elissa just nodded, handing the disgusting stuff back to her, and Leliana grinned as she left the tent.


	17. Chapter 17

_"Never seen anything like it."_

Elissa was a freak.

_Dangerous._

Wasn't she already dangerous enough?

She sighed, ran her hands down her face. Whatever she had done when she'd sparred with Aedan, it had been...quite the sight, from her understanding. The others hadn't noticed it, but Wynne and Morrigan had. She'd somehow accelerated herself using magic. She moved faster, thought faster, was stronger than she had any right to be.

Morrigan had apparently not even known it was possible. Wynne had barely had any knowledge of it. It was an old style of magic, older than anyone alive should have the right to know. It was elven in nature, Wynne had said. There was very little knowledge of it outside the Circle, much less any idea of how to practice it. It was thought to be dead.

And here was Elissa, using it by accident.

The spirit was. Not her. Elissa didn't know what was happening to her. She recognized the magic, definitely, but before, when she had done those things, she had never noticed the spirit helping her. It was almost as if it was natural. Instinct.

When Zevran had ambushed them, she hadn't thought about what she was doing. She just acted and saved Alistair's life. To her, everything slowed, and maybe it did for them too. Everyone seemed to have mixed experiences with the spells Elissa used. Aedan had said nothing felt different. Leliana said everything but Elissa moved like slugs. Zevran thought she was just very, very fast.

No one knew what it was or what she was doing, but there was no question about it. Elissa could _use_ magic, just not in the same sense Wynne or Morrigan did. She had before, but it didn't come naturally like this did.

Perhaps it came from the spirit. They didn't die, or did they? Had this thing reached out to her because it knew they'd fit so disturbingly perfect together, or was it chance? What had she done to be so strangely lucky and unlucky at the same time?

Elissa was sure her abilities came from it. She had never been taught a spell until recently. She had never intentionally done anything, but this, it would just happen, whether she tried to make it happen or not. It was part of her, and without realizing it, Elissa had already incorporated it into her fighting style. It had been part of her for years, completely undetected, happy to just protect her on the odd occasion she had needed it.

There it was again, that odd warmth spreading through her chest. By now, Elissa understood it wasn't her. It was almost like the spirit was pleased when Elissa credited its impact on her life, or just its existence in general. Whenever she thought of it, that feeling was there. It was terrifying to feel satisfaction when it wasn't her own.

"How are you feeling?" Leliana's voice tore Elissa from her thoughts and she looked up, frowning. Leliana made a face. "That bad, huh?"

"It's not everyday someone tells you you're a monster," Elissa said dryly.

Leliana just sighed. "Can I sit?"

Elissa nodded and looked away. It was snowing, but lightly. It would barely be a dusting if they were lucky, though she doubted it would amount to more. The sky was clear for as far as the eye could see. If the villagers here hadn't tried to kill them, perhaps this town could be beautiful. All it could be now though was another hellhole.

Aedan had left her here with Leliana and Zevran, just in case someone tried to follow them. Everyone else, though, followed him and Genitivi into the mountain.

At least he was alive, she supposed. Finding the scholar alive was a positive note.

"How's your head?" Elissa asked, desperate for something else to think about.

"I'm a little light-headed," Leliana admitted. "It hurts, but not as bad as it did before."

"That's good."

They fell silent again, and instead of thinking about the death and confusion she was surrounded by, her thoughts drifted to the bard, and again, Elissa whirled to find something to talk about. Leliana was definitely _not_ unpleasant to think about; it was just...the thoughts Elissa had made her uncomfortable. The _feeling_ made her uncomfortable. If she wasn't careful, these feelings might develop into something neither of them needed right now.

Unless, of course, it was exactly what they needed.

Elissa slapped herself mentally, visibly cringed. She knew Leliana would say something.

"What do you think about that makes you do that so often?"

"Not nice things," Elissa said quickly.

"Or very nice things," Zevran quipped.

The elf was seated across the great doors from them, whittling away as usual. He would often butt in on conversations he wasn't part of, but didn't seem too keen on actually engaging with everyone. Then again, no one really seemed keen on that aside from Aedan. If it wasn't for him, Elissa doubted everyone would be here.

"Can you get lost?" Elissa snapped.

He chuckled, but didn't make any move to leave. "On the contrary, Warden, I believe I have been asked to stay here, no?"

Elissa grunted as she leaned back against the Chantry wall. It was going to be a long, long day.

* * *

Boredom soon sunk in, and Elissa found herself trying yet again to cast the simplest of spells. It wasn't so much out of a need to know she could do something now. Now it was out of pure curiosity, utter boredom. Yes, she had wanted to be able to just heal little wounds, but steps were being made now, at the very least. She knew she _could_ use magic, so it would only be a matter of time before she figured out how, right?

Hopefully.

Zevran had wandered off to find some firewood; it was getting late, and even if they retreated into the Chantry, it would be far too cold. Winter might only be getting underway in Ferelden, but they were in the mountains, and it was freezing just sitting outside waiting.

It didn't bother Elissa, surprisingly. She was content in the cold. Aedan still seemed bothered by it—most of his nights were spent huddled in front of the campfire, with his tent pitched as closely to it as he dared. She thought of offering him her spare blanket, but she didn't. Part of it was because she just didn't ever remember to do it when there was time, and part of it was because she thought it might embarrass him. But maybe it wouldn't, and she should just give her blanket up.

"It's quite disappointing, is it not?"

Elissa looked up. "Hmm?"

"To be so close to...to _Andraste's Ashes,_ a-and...be stuck here," Leliana said. Her eyes were following their party's footprints in the snow, up the path Genitivi took them. "I wish..."

"That you'd get to see them?"

She laughed once and tore her eyes away reluctantly. "It's a foolish wish. It's still possible they're not even real and that this was a waste of our time and energy."

Elissa shrugged. "I think the Ashes are real. What else would compel a bunch of idiots to live here? What else would they be making blood sacrifices to?"

Leliana sighed. "You are probably right."

Elissa followed her gaze again, out into the mountains and over the snow. "That doesn't make it any easier, does it?"

"No."

"I'm sorry."

Leliana shook her head. "It's all right, I think. I am where I am for a reason, yes?"

"A stupid one," Elissa muttered. "Even if they're not real, why leave anyone behind?"

"Aedan likes to protect everyone," Leliana said. "You, most of all. I don't think he would forgive himself if you got hurt."

"I'm fine."

"And I am not, so I imagine he left you and Zevran here to make sure I didn't get lonely."

Elissa huffed. "That's a stupid reason, too." The words hung in the air for several long seconds before Elissa realized what she'd said. It had come out without thinking, but if she tried to explain, it wouldn't matter. The damage was done. "I shouldn't have said that."

Again, another sigh. "It's all right."

"No, it's—"

Leliana waved a hand dismissively. "I know you don't like being left behind. When we were with the elves, that much was obvious. I only volunteered to stay behind because Alistair looked like he'd rather die than have to talk to you."

Elissa winced. "Was I that bad?"

"You're still quite insufferable." Leliana hesitated, and then added, "Not as bad as before, but most times I would rather listen to Morrigan and Alistair argue than you complain."

Elissa snorted. "Wow, thanks."

The corner of Leliana's mouth quirked up in a small smile. "You started it. I was simply finishing it."

"I grew up with boys, Leliana. I can insult anything and anyone."

"Oh, I'm sure you can."

Elissa's eyes narrowed suspiciously, looking for any sign of bemusement in her face, but Leliana's expression was perfectly blank. "You're fucking with me."

The bard smiled and Elissa grinned, victorious. Leliana probably let her off the hook easily; words were never Elissa's strong suit, and she was positive a bard had to be good with them to be successful. Leliana was probably just being nice, but Elissa would take it.

"You're the only person who hasn't said anything to me about my, uh...why I was...why I wanted to help you."

"Huh? You mean the vision?" Leliana shifted uncomfortably, but nodded. "I seem to remember telling Aedan to leave you there to rot. Quite a few times, actually. If memory serves, I think the first thing I said to him about you was you were crazy." She frowned. "Or maybe it was the second." Leliana rolled her eyes. "But no, I just...I dunno. What's there to talk about?"

"That I might be insane?"

Elissa shrugged. "Oh well. At this point, I think we're all crazy, so what's it matter?"

"It doesn't bother you?"

"I mean, I never really thought about it," Elissa admitted. "I honestly forgot about it entirely." Leliana nodded again, eyebrows furrowed, and Elissa said, "Why are you asking now?"

"I...I don't know."

Elissa didn't understand, but Leliana didn't look like she wanted to keep talking. She looked...something. Elissa couldn't put her finger on it. Leliana just looked so deeply sad, so lost in thought that Elissa feared disturbing her would make her angry. It didn't make any sense to her, but she figured it would be best to just let Leliana talk when she was ready.

Normally, when they sat together, it was relaxing. Lately, Elissa would pretend Leliana's talking about Orlais and hair and shoes was annoying, but she'd still listen as intently as ever, and would even give her own comments on fashion. Not that her comments or opinions were anywhere near Leliana's standards, but Elissa tried, and she hoped Leliana saw the effort.

It had been a while since they'd been able to just talk about dumb things like that. Before Denerim at the very least. While they were there, Elissa had spent most of her time cooped up in her room, rather than risking being spotted. Most of Leliana's time had been spent with Aedan and Alistair, roaming the market and the city, picking up a few odd jobs before hunting down Genitivi's home.

And since Denerim, there just hadn't been much conversation in general. Most of their time was spent sitting in silence. It was always comfortable, relaxed. Elissa never felt any pressure around Leliana, but right now, this was tense. She felt like she should talk. There had to be something to say, but words just wouldn't come. Elissa was at a loss, and it hurt.

"I lied to you," Leliana said softly. "About...a lot more than I should have."

Elissa frowned as she sat upright. Again? What was it this time? What was it about Leliana that let Elissa just...forgive and forget everything? Why the hell could she never find it in herself to be mad at her?

"Do you remember when...when we were with the Dalish? When I brought you bread?"

One, slow nod was Elissa's only response.

"I said I was offering friendship."

Another nod.

"I...I wasn't," Leliana said. Elissa's frown deepened, and Leliana backpedaled. "I didn't have an ulterior motive, I promise. I still don't. I was just... I don't know. You were so angry and so, so cold, but I didn't think Alistair deserved to be put anywhere near you. He's such a sweet man. I thought... I don't know. I don't know what I was thinking. I don't know what I was doing.

"Aedan wanted someone to make sure you didn't start any fights with the elves. He wanted to make sure you were safe and he wanted Alistair to stay with you. Alistair made some joke, and I couldn't let him do it. I stayed, but I hated you, Elissa. Every attempt I'd made to talk, it was obvious how much you disliked me. I knew you hated me, so I..."

Leliana shook her head and put her face in her hands. "I don't know. It sounds so childish to think about now. It was so silly and pathetic, and... I'm sorry, Elissa."

She looked away, swallowing deeply. She still hadn't really processed what Leliana meant. Leliana hadn't really explained well, either, but there was enough. For whatever reason, she had lied about wanting to be friends. It stung. Was she still lying about it? What the hell was even happening?

"After the Circle, you were completely different," Leliana said. "You sat with everyone. You talked. You were participating in...everything. You aren't so openly aggressive. It doesn't make any sense, but I started...I..."

She threw her hands up. "I don't know anymore. I give up."

Elissa was quiet for a moment, and then asked, "Do you still hate me?"

"No," Leliana said, laughing in disbelief. "No, I do not. When we talk, it's pleasant. It helps me relax. It gives me hope that if you can change, so can I. It is comforting."

Elissa swallowed. "I mean...I don't blame you for disliking me. I was, uh, well..." She scratched the back of her head. "I was not a good person to be around."

"I doubt most people would be pleasant after what you and Aedan saw."

"He told you?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry, Elissa."

"Yeah," she muttered. Her voice got stuck in her throat and she coughed. "Yeah, I am too."

She should be mad, shouldn't she? Or hurt? Upset? Anything? Anything other than this dull acceptance, right? She should be mad that Leliana had pretended to like her. That was what normal people did, wasn't it?

Elissa couldn't find it in her to be mad, though. She knew she deserved it. Nothing she did was deserving of any kindness. She had been angry at the world and everything part of it. She had hated everyone and everything. She had hated Leliana, too, at one point. Not now, of course.

"I'm sorry I acted like that," Elissa said. "You didn't treat me any differently when I told you I'm a mage. You didn't hurt my family. No one here is responsible for any of that. I was being irrational and childish, and I'm sorry."

Leliana nodded, sniffling. Had she been crying? "It's not an excuse, but I imagine many people would lash out if they were in your place."

"I think it was worse because I never got to..." Elissa shook her head. "No, nevermind. I'm not going to think about it. I don't want to."

"You can," Leliana said softly.

Could she? Did Leliana care? Did she want to hear it at all?

But before she could stop herself, Elissa was already speaking.

"I had unfinished business with my parents," Elissa said. "I didn't want to hurt them. I didn't...I don't know what I wanted, but I wanted something from them."

"Their acceptance? For being a mage?"

There it was. The source of all Elissa's problems. All of her stupid anger and fear, and there it was, right in front of her. Until she was ten, she had been the favorite in the family. She was the only daughter, after all, and her father had spoiled her whereas her mother was just relieved to have a girl in a family of boys. She had been the unexpected child, the youngest due to Aedan being born first. Their mother hadn't known she was carrying twins, but they still loved her.

For their tenth birthday, their father had agreed to take them on their first hunt. Her, Aedan, Fergus, and their father. Aedan and Elissa weren't going to participate, just watch, but they'd gotten bored, and had wandered astray.

Elissa squeezed her eyes shut. Her throat felt leaden. She didn't want to think about this. It hurt so much. Her entire life had changed so quickly. Everything was different. Her parents looked at her like she was less. Fergus and Aedan had been scared of her.

But they didn't send her away. Was it to protect the family image, or was it because her father had loved her?

Elissa had never wanted to entertain the idea it was the latter. She had wanted to hate him. It was easier to hate than to accept what he'd done to protect her, what he'd risked for their entire family.

She felt something on her hand and it drew her back to reality. It was Leliana, slowly and hesitantly wrapping her hand around Elissa's. It was such a welcome relief.

"I'm sure they're proud of you."

No, they wouldn't be. They had raised her better than this, better than the way she acted. She wasn't some lout to be wallowing in self pity. She was a Cousland. She was raised to be brave, strong, kind, and she had been none of those things.

This would be a good place to start, wouldn't it?

"I forgive you," Elissa said, "for...whatever it was you were trying to explain."

Leliana laughed meekly. "What kind of bard stumbles over their words?"

_Mine._

Elissa started to speak, but her eyes locked onto something moving above the trees. It was so faint in the low light, and so, so far away, but the outline was unmistakable. It was coming towards them from the valley, flying low, and oh Maker, Elissa thought her heart was going to stop.

It was a dragon.


	18. Chapter 18

They were cultists.

These villagers _were worshipping a dragon,_ and Elissa had no way to warn Aedan before the chaos broke out.

The instant she, they, had found Aedan and the others, the cultists attacked. Their leader was screaming something about heretics and some other nonsense. They retreated, but fought, slowly making their way out of the cavern.

Elissa pushed her way to the front of the fighting, ducking under Alistair's sword to pursue Aedan and their leader. He and Aedan were dueling at the mouth of the cave. Aedan was faster, pushing him back when it was clear he was trying to push Aedan—trying and failing.

One lucky hit with his axe was all it took.

As he brought his weapon around, Aedan brought his shield up to block, but he pivoted and swung the handle into Aedan's helmet. He stumbled, fell to his knees.

Elissa couldn't run faster. She was _so close._

But instead of killing him, the man reached for a horn.

She felt her heart stop. No. He wasn't. No, no, no, no, no.

She _had to._

The next thing she knew, she was throwing herself into him, and they were tumbling down the rocks in a tangle of limbs. His knee hit her in the side of the head as they fell, leaving her dazed as she rolled to a stop.

Her head throbbed. Who knew metal greaves hurt?

Elissa groaned as she tried to scramble upright. Pain shot through her shoulder and back. The hilt of her sword was digging into her spine. Her shield was pinning it there; she had to get up.

Someone was yelling her name.

She forced herself to recover, shaking her head furiously to clear it, but it was too late. The man came into focus. He had his horn again, and as he struggled to his knees, he brought it to his lips.

He'd barely blown when an arrow struck him between the eyes.

Wait, wasn't it dark when they'd entered the mountain?

Elissa shook her head again, still fuzzy, when a hand stuck itself into view. She traced the arm back up to a face. Leliana.

Of course. Who else would it be?

The bard pulled her upright rather aggressively, but she was grateful for it. It helped her head clear.

"Are you all right?"

The concern in her voice was unmistakable.

Elissa nodded once, prodding where his knee had hit her head. It would probably bruise. "Yeah, I'm fine." Leliana's expression was one of skepticism, but before she could argue, Elissa's hand shot up to silence her. "Do you hear that?"

It sounded like...wings?

_Oh no._

Over the crest of the mountain, the dragon appeared. Elissa felt her heart skip a beat and her throat clench. Its black eyes were now locked on them, narrowed to slits.

The creature visibly tensed up before leaping back into the air. It was so damn large Elissa thought she might die from just looking at it—purple, leathery wings, long legs, a broad chest. It was the biggest thing she'd ever seen.

Its jaw opened, and even from that distance, Elissa could see the faintest glow.

"Oh boy."

As it swept down, fire poured from its mouth. Leliana shoved her to the side and rolled in the opposite direction. Not a second later, flames engulfed the snow and dirt where they'd been standing a moment before. The dragon kept going, sailing further down the path and eventually landing between them and the doors of a temple.

A hand locked under her shoulder and hefted her to her feet.

"I thought I told you to stay in Haven," Aedan hissed.

Elissa looked at him, back at the dragon, and said, "That's what you're worried about right now?"

His brows furrowed, but he let her go.

How the hell were they supposed to survive that?

* * *

There was so much smoke. Everything was burning. She couldn't see her own hands, much less her bow or the hilt of her sword. Overhead, the dragon roared, and a massive leg thundered its way into the gravel. Heat rushed past as it shot flames at someone.

How Leliana had ended up underneath the beast, she didn't know. All she knew was she needed to _move._

She went in the direction she prayed was away from the dragon. Her ears were ringing; it was hard to hear anything. The dull headache she'd had from running after Elissa was now pounding. Between the ringing and her heart's beating, Leliana was sure she was deaf.

The air around her surged as it was all ripped away. Her very breath was whisked away, ripped right out of her grasp, but the smoke was being taken with it, and suddenly, she could see again. The next breath she took was so crisp and clear, she wondered how people could ever take such a thing for granted.

She coughed once. Her lungs were begging for more air; it felt so good.

The noise caught the attention of the monster standing only a few inches away, but it must've moved while she was trying to get away from it, and now it was several feet ahead of her. It swivelled its head around, purple beady eyes drilling into her. There was an ancient wisdom there, and for the first time in her life, Leliana truly felt like prey.

The dragon, however, didn't deem her worthy enough of its fire, and instead, she whipped her tail around, straight into her side. It was so fast, so smooth. She couldn't avoid it. One of its spikes dug into her shoulder as her feet left the ground, and the next thing Leliana knew, she was rolling across the gravel and into a rock.

The Maker must've been watching over her. Miraculously, her head managed to escape mostly unscathed, but she could feel blood trickling down her cheek. It was in her eyebrow, in her eye. Everything was so dusty and dirty, so red. Was it her own hair, or was it blood?

Her arm felt heavy. It felt like dead weight. A burning sensation shot up and down the length of it. Blood was coming steadily out of a hole in her arm.

She clenched her jaw and ran her opposite hand across her eyes, trying to wipe away any blood and grime to see. Her bow. She needed it, but all of her arrows were now scattered, so it didn't really matter, did it?

Leliana forced herself to move anyway. It didn't matter how much pain she was in, either. She couldn't keep getting herself hurt like this. What good was she if all she did was drain Wynne and her supplies?

By the time she managed to track both her bow and several arrows down, Sten had ripped a gash in the dragon's hide, and it had dispatched the qunari in a similar manner to her. Zevran was nowhere to be seen, so he was probably lying in the dirt somewhere as well, leaving the three Wardens and Wynne and Morrigan to fight the thing, but it was as plain as day that they were tiring.

How were they supposed to kill a high dragon?

She dragged herself to her feet, hand numbly locked around her bow like it was a lifeline. She watched as Alistair was slapped aside like a ragdoll, watched as he landed, watched the terrified looks on Aedan and Elissa's faces when he didn't get back up.

Her heart gave a little. Alistair was such a sweet man. If he was hurt, she didn't... She didn't want to think about it. After the initial suspicion, he was always nice enough to her. If anything, he was the one she spent the most time with after Elissa. They could talk for hours—Alistair would always have another story of a prank he pulled or something stupid he did while at the Chantry, and she would always have some wild tale of Orlesian frivolity he would balk at.

Both of the Wardens hid behind their shields as the dragon rained fire upon them, but while they were recovering, she reverted her attention to the two mages, both spaced apart so evenly that one might think it impossible for it to kill them both.

It was determined to prove her wrong.

With one leap, it cleared the distance between itself and the two women. For Morrigan, it swung its tail in an arc, and while it did connect, when Morrigan was airborne, the air rippled around her as she shifted into a raven. Leliana couldn't see where the witch went, but she didn't care. Its eyes were focused on Wynne.

The mage seemed to accept the fact that she was about to be roasted to death. There wasn't any fight left in her—she had fought her way up the mountainside with Aedan and the others, waded her way through the dragonlings and drakes without wavering, but this, it had taken a toll. It had exhausted all of them, including the three who had been sitting at Haven just a short while ago.

She had to stop it. No matter how much it would hurt, no matter how impossible it felt, Leliana had to try, or she would never forgive herself.

Somehow she managed to get an arrow on her bowstring before it opened its maw. Somehow, she had drawn the string back to her cheek, but her left arm shook and wavered. Her shot wouldn't be steady; it could miss. Holding the bow upright was so, so painful. Her arm was on fire.

But she let go, and the arrow sailed for its target.

The dragon's head came down. Fire spewed from its lips, and then Elissa was there, between Wynne and the flames, and her arrow smacked straight into the thing's eye. The fire stopped abruptly as it reared back, screaming in pain.

Leliana had probably just hit the best shot of her entire life. She could hardly see, hardly hold her arm upright, and _she hit something the size of a silver._

The dragon came back down on all fours, head spinning angrily to find her, and the instant its mouth reopened, Morrigan materialized beside her. Lightning shot from her fingertips into the fire.

When it screamed this time, Leliana felt like her ears were bleeding. It was such a shrill sound, so piercing. She fell to her knees, holding her head in her hands, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

It collapsed with a thud, the ground shaking, and without a moment's hesitation, Aedan strode up to its head and buried his sword in its skull.

They'd done it. They'd killed a high dragon.

A laugh of disbelief escaped her, and several pairs of eyes fell on her, but she didn't care. They'd killed a high dragon. Somehow, by the grace of the Maker, they had killed a high dragon.

Aedan pried his sword from the dragon's head, staggering a few steps from the momentum, and looked between it and his sister, and laughed too. His entire arm was covered in scorch marks and he probably had some serious burns under his armor, but once he'd had his fill of staring at the corpse, he threw his sword to the ground and helped Wynne bring their wounded up onto the path.

Eventually, Elissa made her way to Leliana's side. Her eyes were wild, alight with a fire Leliana had never seen before, but she looked as exhausted as Leliana felt. One whistle, and Sam came trotting up from his hiding place, where Aedan had told him to remain while they fought the dragon.

The way they both loved that dog, it was endearing. Leliana had never seen a mabari that was loyal to two masters, but she was sure Sam was the first. Elissa would deny it left and right, but that dog would die if he had to chose between the twins.

The mabari followed Elissa to Leliana's side, digging his head under Leliana's good arm to hide in her lap. Elissa just crouched, rummaging around in her pack for something, but it quickly became obvious she was trying to help stop her arm from bleeding. She dug out a torn scarf and a small container of a healing salve. It wouldn't stop the pain, but it would slow the bleeding.

Sam whined as his big eyes flicked over to Aedan, who was now erecting a tent. Wynne would remain here with the wounded most likely, get them through the night, and in the morning, when they were stable enough, Aedan would probably drag the rest of them into the temple for the ashes.

There was something harrowing about knowing she would see Andraste's Ashes for herself. Who was she to look upon Andraste's remains?

Leliana found herself stroking Sam's head absentmindedly, watching Aedan work with Morrigan, watching Elissa carefully treat her wounds. Her hands were so gentle—they were shaking. It was like she was scared to break her.

Once the bleeding in her arm had stopped, Elissa tied the scarf around it. A bit of blood seeped through while she waited to inspect her work, but when she was satisfied, she reached back into the small container with two fingers, scooping out a smaller amount than the first time. She reached for Leliana's head, but she pushed Elissa's hand away.

"Save it."

Elissa made a face. "I wouldn't have to use it if you'd stop getting hit in the head." Leliana scoffed and rolled her eyes, but didn't push her away when she started rubbing the paste over the small cut. "You'd think at this rate you'd be stupid by now."

"I must be if I'm letting you treat my wounds."

The Warden cracked a smile, but didn't snap back with a witty reply of her own. She was focused, brushing Leliana's messy hair aside so, so carefully as she smeared the salve in. Her touch was so gentle and oh Maker, Leliana could feel herself melting. 


	19. Chapter 19

There was no watch rotation tonight. They, being all of the members who hadn't been injured by the dragon, had agreed it was extremely unlikely someone would ambush them. They'd killed every cultist they'd come across, every dragon, and they were in such a remote location they should be safe from anyone, darkspawn included.

Elissa was awake anyway. She couldn't sleep, partially due to the fact she was still hyped from their fight and subsequent victory, and partially due to bad dreams. She had tried twice already, but she couldn't stop dreaming of her parents, of her family, of finding little Oren in Oriana's dead arms. It shook her to her core, bothered her in a way she didn't even know was possible. Her stomach churned at the very thought.

Elissa swallowed, but her throat didn't cooperate. It got stuck, so she just sat there with her air stuck and her thoughts.

She should've been able to save them like she did with Wynne today. She should've been able to. She was a mage, and all it took was enough fear and panic and pressure and suddenly, she had some sort of ward up between the two of them and that thing's flames. If she could do that, then why couldn't she save her parents? Why couldn't she heal her father, or make her mother see reason? Why did they have to die?

Why did she have to stay here without them?

Elissa hadn't felt this alone in a long time. No one truly knew what was going on with her. Morrigan knew about the spirit, but she didn't know about this weird feeling of bitter hatred and loneliness she felt at the thought of her family. No one else knew about the spirit, and not even Aedan truly understood what she thought of their parents.

She wished it was Fergus here, and not herself. He would be a better Grey Warden than she would. He would know what to do. He would be strong. He and Aedan could stop a Blight. What could she do?

Elissa just sighed, swallowing past the lump in her throat, and ran her hands through her hair. It was loose for once, hanging lamely over the shoulder her braid usually sat on. It was getting long—too long to go into battle with, but Elissa couldn't bring herself to cut it. When she tried, she heard her mother's voice, filled with relief, that Elissa was a girl, and not just another boy. Her mother had always been happy to brush through Elissa's hair. She'd always said it was nice, thick and easily tamed, whereas Aedan's had been an unruly mess when they were children. Cutting her hair had always been a pleasant time, and Aedan's had always been a pain.

She could remember the last time her mother cut her hair. They'd talked about potential suitors, husbands Elissa could marry that her parents trusted to not rat her out to the Chantry. Elissa had just sulked in the chair, pouting like a petulant child instead of appreciating her mother's presence, and her mother had just stood there, taking Elissa's rude comments with a sad smile on her face.

Elissa used to think she was sad because she was a mage. Now she understood it was because of the way she acted, the unnecessary anger and hatred she directed at them that they just accepted because it would be easier than trying to explain their reasoning.

And now her mother and father were gone, and she would never be able to apologize, or tell them she understood, or that she forgave them, or that she appreciated the effort they put into raising her. Instead, all they got from their daughter was an ungrateful, spiteful human being, and knowing she was such a disgusting person made Elissa's stomach twist again.

She sniffled and felt tears rolling down her cheeks. When had she started crying?

Angrily, Elissa wiped them away. Crying wasn't a weakness she could afford right now. If Aedan didn't cry in front of the others, let alone her, she wouldn't do it, even when she was certain she was alone. She would be strong, if only for him. She would be strong for herself, for her parents. It was the least she could do—make it long enough she could enact the revenge their father had so clearly wanted from them.

Aedan had only meant it in jest, but how ironically poetic would it be if she killed Howe with their family sword? How _perfect_ would it be, for her and her brother, and for Howe, knowing he died at their hands, at the blade of the very same family he sought to destroy? Even if it killed her, Elissa knew she would be the one to end that man.

Maybe it was selfish, but she knew Aedan hadn't lost as much as she had when they'd died. He'd lost his loving parents, but Elissa had lost so many opportunities to make everything right, to try and make it up to them.

She felt like it was her responsibility to right that wrong, along with all the others that had been committed in the last few months. She owed her and her brother's life to Duncan, and there was no appreciation from her. He died because of Loghain's betrayal. He died because of some man who was supposed to win the day for them, but he abandoned their army and their plan, and now Ferelden was falling apart.

She'd kill him, too. Loghain, Howe, anyone who committed any wrongs, and Elissa would make sure her sword was the last thing they saw before they died.

"Can't sleep?"

Leliana's voice drew Elissa out of her thoughts. The bard was lying with her back to Elissa, but she'd known Elissa was awake. How many sleepless nights had they spent talking together? How many times did Elissa drag herself out of her tent at night to take someone else's watch, just so she could talk to this bard, this _Orlesian?_

"Nothing new there," Elissa said softly.

She rolled over slowly, being careful with her arm, and fixated her eyes on Elissa's. They were so clear, so pale that they reminded Elissa of ice, but they were the warmest eyes she'd ever seen.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Leliana asked.

She shook her head. "I doubt you want to hear me complain."

"You might be surprised."

Leliana was tired. That much was obvious. She had bags under her eyes, but she looked as alert as ever. It spoke volumes about who she was as a person. It was likely Leliana never truly slept or rested, and instead, was constantly ready for someone to stab her in the back.

That just made Elissa sadder.

"I don't think I'm ready to," Elissa admitted.

Leliana sat up now, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Is it about your family?" One nod was enough, so she said, "That's all right. We can just sit if you'd like."

Normally, Elissa would be grateful for the peace, but she found herself craving Leliana's voice. She didn't want to think, and listening would distract her from her thoughts. Plus, it helped that Leliana's voice was so...

Elissa gulped and forced that train of thought elsewhere. "What was your mother like?"

Leliana's eyebrows went up. She was always so expressive, so...open with her emotions. If she was annoyed, it was an eye roll, serious or not. If she was happy, she was quick to smile, and if she was amused, she would never miss out on a laugh. It was so refreshing.

"My mother?" Leliana seemed surprised at the question, but she didn't hesitate to talk. "I told you she was Fereldan, yes?" Elissa nodded and leaned forward, resting her chin in the palms of her hands. "Oh, I don't know. I can't remember much."

"You don't have—"

Leliana cut her off. "There is this flower. I remember it so clearly. She would keep them in her wardrobe so her dresses would smell like them. It was so beautiful, so sweet. Whenever I find one of them, it reminds me of her." She smiled, and it almost looked sad, but she perked back up immediately. "When I was in Lothering, I would pick them and put them in my hair, in this little braid." She twirled her finger through the thin strand of hair, and added, "The flowers stopped blooming around the time King Cailan and his army passed through. It was almost like they knew the Blight was coming."

"What kind of flower are they?"

"Andraste's Grace. They're white with red centers." She sighed wistfully. "I suppose it'll be difficult to find them now. The darkspawn are spreading so far and they kill everything in their path."

"We can keep an eye out," Elissa said quickly. "I know they bloom around Highever. I've seen them before."

This time, only one eyebrow went up, and the corner of Leliana's mouth quirked up in a smile. "It's just a silly flower, Elissa."

"It's not silly."

Leliana stifled a small laugh, shaking her head. "Well, if you are so determined, who am I to stop you?"

"Most girls dream of being the one a knight brings a flower."

"Oh?"

_Fuck me._

Elissa slapped herself mentally, but it was too late now. The words were out of her mouth, she could feel the blush spreading across her cheeks, and Leliana was very, very obviously biting back a smile.

"I thought you said you weren't a knight?" Leliana asked innocently.

"I'm not," Elissa retorted.

"But that's not what you _just_ said."

She huffed, suddenly defensive, and said, "All I meant was pretty girls usually like flowers."

"I'm pretty now?"

_STOP TALKING, YOU IDIOT._

"N-no," Elissa stammered. "I-I mean...yes, but that's not...what I was talking about, specifically... A-all I meant w-was...uh..."

She snapped her mouth shut, but she had Leliana's undivided attention now, and she wanted to jump straight off this mountain.

"Go on," Leliana urged.

Elissa laughed awkwardly, forcing her eyes elsewhere. "I'd rather not say something I might regret."

"I think you've already done that."

She laughed again, more strained this time. "Was it that obvious?"

"Just a bit," Leliana said, giggling.

Elissa wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but luckily, she didn't have to. There was some rustling in one of the tents and Alistair eventually emerged, looking rather disheveled and entirely unhappy with being awake.

He sat next to Leliana, who looked about as unhappy as Alistair at his appearance. Elissa had to stifle a laugh.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, looking between the two of them.

Elissa quickly said, "No, we're just talking."

"Anything important?" he asked, helping himself to the remainder of their meager supper.

"Yes," Leliana said, just as quickly as Elissa had been a moment before.

"It's actually not a big deal," Elissa said. "It can wait."

Alistair looked at Elissa first, fork still in his mouth, and then to Leliana, and back to Elissa again. Very, very slowly he swallowed the stew, and then sighed. "So...I think I'm going to leave you to it..."

"No!" Elissa exclaimed, jumping to her feet even as her fellow Warden stood. He frowned, again looking to Leliana. "No, uh... I was, uh..."

One eyebrow. "You were what, Elissa?"

She shot the bard a dirty look and Leliana looked at her feet, very clearly struggling to stifle a smirk.

"This is really awkward," Alistair said, "and I'm very confused, so I'm going to...walk over there."

"No, you're hurt," Elissa retorted. "You should stay by the fire where it's warm with Leliana. Getting a cold wouldn't be good for either of you right now."

"I suppose," was Alistair's quiet response, but he sounded more confused than agreeable, and he returned to his seat. For several painful minutes, Elissa stood, watching Alistair eat because it was the only place she could comfortably look without Leliana being involved. She was still blushing, and it didn't help that Leliana's eyes were seemingly locked on Elissa.

Alistair just kept looking between them, eyebrows furrowed, and he said, "What were you talking about?"

By the grace of the Maker, Leliana didn't say something inappropriate. "We were talking about my mother. I was telling her about these flowers my mother would dry and hang her clothes with, and Elissa had just reminded me of you picking roses. We both figured you wouldn't mind keeping an eye out for them, would you?"

_What is she going on about?_

"I...I guess not?"

Elissa's eyes narrowed suspiciously. The tone of Leliana's voice, it sounded like she was trying _extremely_ hard to be sweet, like she was begging Alistair to agree.

"What kind of—"

"It's all right, Alistair," Elissa interrupted. "Leliana just doesn't think I'm good with that kind of stuff."

"With...picking flowers?"

"The ones that smell good," she elaborated.

He was being very deliberate with his eating, but as soon as he swallowed, he said, "You're having me on, aren't you?"

"No!" Elissa repeated.

Leliana sighed rather dramatically and said, "There's no point in lying about it, Elissa. Alistair's seen through your joke."

" _My_ joke?"

Alistair set his bowl down beside the fire and got up again. "I'm sorry, but I'm very, very confused, and I'd rather not come between...whatever you two are fighting about, so I'll just...go back to bed."

With that, he returned to his tent, muttering something about women being strange.

Once the camp had quieted down again, Leliana broke out in a fit of giggles, and Elissa just stared at her, lost and totally unamused. She had barely followed that conversation since Alistair joined it, and while Leliana seemed to think it was hilarious, Elissa did not.

"Did you just—"

"I had to prove something," Leliana said dismissively, waving a hand.

Elissa looked at her suspiciously. "And did you?"

She nodded.

"You're impossible."

Leliana's grin was broad. "On the contrary, dear Warden—" She stood as well, brushing off her pants. "—you would be the one that is impossible."

And with that, Leliana left Elissa sitting by the fire, wondering what game she had just unwittingly become part of.


	20. Chapter 20

Aedan had never been a fan of riddles. They made his head ache in a way few things could, but thankfully, they had all been rather simple. They'd breezed through the first room, one of what the guardian said would be four trials, before they would be deemed worthy of taking any of Andraste's Ashes.

If they were all that easy, this would be a breeze.

"I'm glad you're not an idiot," Elissa whispered as they made their way through a set of doors. "I never—"

Her words caught in her throat as their eyes fell on what would be the sickest sight Aedan had ever seen. It was a spirit. It had to be. There was no other way to explain how _their father_ was here, standing before them.

His gray hair was brushed neatly, combed to the side in the same style as usual. Every wrinkle on his face was in the exact place Aedan remembered, and that smile, it made him hurt. That was their father, smiling at them like they were the greatest thing anyone could ever see. He looked so proud that it almost made Aedan sick.

"What kind of cruel vision is this?" he demanded.

"Oh, dear child," came the same rough voice, though it sounded...unclear, as if he was speaking through smoke, "I am no vision."

He regarded Aedan heavily, eyes roaming over him, and suddenly, Aedan felt just as small as he did when Duncan pulled them from the fire. He felt lost and alone, isolated, devastated all over again. Seeing his father... It hurt more than it should have. Seeing him should be a relief, right?

"No more do you have to grieve." For the first time, his gaze shifted to Elissa, standing only a few short inches behind Aedan, almost as if she was hiding. "You know that your prayers will not bring me back. Take the pain and the grief, acknowledge it, and let go. You know it is time.

"You have such a long road ahead of you, and you must be prepared. And so I leave this in your hands."

Seemingly from thin air, a small amulet materialized in his hand. Upon closer inspection, Aedan realized his hand was barely visible. No matter how real this illusion looked, that was all it really was. An illusion.

He took Aedan's hand, pressed the necklace into it. His father's grip was like iron, cold and icy, but at the same time, non-existent.

"I know you will do great things with it."

And just like that, as quickly as he had come, Teyrn Cousland was gone, evaporating into the air.

Aedan was shaking. His eyes were drilled into the necklace, staring at the empty pendant with a rage he hardly knew. He could feel eyes on him—Elissa's, Morrigan's, Leliana's.

"I don't want this," Aedan said, sticking his hand out to his sister.

She jumped, surprised, and frowned. "He gave it to you, Aedan, not me."

He swallowed past a lump in his throat, and then shook his head. If he could've shoved the necklace on her, he would have. He didn't want it. He didn't want any part of it. For all he knew, it was a test, or Bryce hadn't been speaking to him at all, or something.

It didn't matter. Aedan did not want the necklace. He didn't want to think about their father, or their mother, or the rest of their family, or anything. He wanted to forget about all of them. He wanted to forget it had ever happened.

Slowly, he felt Elissa's hand close over his, and very delicately, remove the chain from his grasp. Good. He didn't want it.

And then, somehow she had put it on him, and he was shaking all over again.

"Elissa—"

"This is all very touching, but aren't we supposed to be saving an arl?" Morrigan demanded.

"Have some humanity," Leliana snapped, exasperated. "Wouldn't you be upset if you saw your dead mother standing in front of you?"

"I would likely celebrate," Morrigan retorted.

Aedan made a face of disgust, but again, it didn't matter. Morrigan, for all her attitude, was right. They weren't here to mope or be sad; they had a job to do, and Aedan could handle that better than his emotions. It was easy to go here and do that, but trying to process his grief like father had suggested? Nope, way too difficult. It would be easier to just numb himself to it.

"Remind me to never ask you anything like that ever again," Leliana commented, taking a step away from the witch.

To Morrigan's credit, however, she didn't return fire with a snarky reply of her own, and instead looked to Aedan. Her eyes were always so unsettling. He hated looking at them, hated talking to her. How Elissa had ever held a conversation with the witch, he would never understand.

Aedan took a deep breath to steady himself, calm his nerves, and then nodded. "Morrigan's right. Come on."

If they were lucky that was the second trial.

They resumed down the corridor in a rather broken formation. Elissa was on his right, her usual position, with Leliana and Morrigan bringing up the rear, but at a distance shorter than the norm. It was staggered—when he brought Elissa or Leliana with him, they typically positioned themselves around him differently than Morrigan and Alistair would, and if he was being honest, he preferred Morrigan and Alistair's distance.

As they approached a large, vaulted door, the floor and walls creaked around them. Aedan stuck an arm out to stop the others as dust fell all around them, but it was just the door opening for them.

He swallowed nervously and his hand drifted down towards the hilt of his sword. After a few cautious steps, he was in the antechamber, and he saw more spectres, similar to the ones who had given them riddles.

Except these were different. They were animated, almost as if shadows of real people, and that was when he recognized them.

All four of them had a mirror image standing across from them. There was another Aedan, another Elissa, another Leliana, another Morrigan. They wore the same armor, carried the same weapons, had the same stances and posture.

Something in the air clicked, and Leliana's shadow snapped into action. An arrow came whizzing for his chest the same instant, but Morrigan was ready, and the air before him shimmered as a ward blocked the shot. She dispatched the ghost just as swiftly, throwing a chunk of the cobblestone beneath their feet into its chest. It exploded in a puff of smoke.

Elissa's ghost came charging at him even as his went for her. He ripped his sword free of its scabbard as the shadow descended on him. The sword that collided with his was...Elissa's. The Cousland sword. The same runes glowed along the blade, same leather strap she had wound across the pommel and hilt to improve her grip.

Hopefully this thing wouldn't kick his ass as handily as Elissa had.

But rather than stress over that fact, he grit his teeth, and went on the offensive. Elissa was guarded in fights and he could overpower her easily before; there should be no difference now.

It didn't appear the ghost could use the same magic Elissa did, so he pushed his advantage. She swung at his chest, looking to run him through, but Aedan sidestepped and smacked his shield off the flat of her blade. In one smooth motion, he slashed his sword through what should've been the ghost, but it dissipated as soon as his blade touched its shoulder.

He didn't even have the time to see Elissa kill his double—she was moving onto Morrigan's, but both the witch and Leliana had it handled. Each woman shot a projectile of their own into the spirit, and it exploded like the others.

"This is..."

"Disturbing," Aedan finished.

Elissa's eyes met his for a moment, and then she nodded. "This is making me uncomfortable."

"I imagine it was designed to do so," Morrigan said.

He gave the room a once-over before sheathing his sword. The hilt of the weapon clicked into place as the wood met the lacquered leather, leaving a sense of satisfaction radiating throughout his body. Nothing satisfied Aedan like that sound. It meant whatever conflict they'd gotten into was over, and that alone was enough of a relief the crisp noise was just icing on the cake.

Aedan inhaled deeply, savoring the cold air in his chest. "No point in dwelling on it now, though. We're halfway there."

As they continued through the halls, Aedan felt his heart getting heavier. Every step he took was sluggish, as if being weighed down by some invisible force. The others, though, they didn't seem to be having the same problem. He pushed on.

The next door opened for them as well, but instead of an empty room like the last, a gaping hole sat in the center, surrounded by square plates. At the opposite end, another door, but he couldn't see a way to reach it.

"Oh, this looks fun!" Leliana droned. "I bet we'll have to work together and join hands and sing a happy song to get across."

Aedan frowned when he looked at her. "Are you being sarcastic?"

Leliana simply shrugged and Elissa scoffed out a laugh. The way the two of them were always just...around each other was annoying enough. The fact that Elissa enjoyed Leliana making fun of him was even more annoying, but if it made Elissa laugh, then he was happy to be the butt of some jokes. It was so nice being able to just talk to her again.

He scanned the room a second time, and decided that however they were going to get across, they'd have to use the plates for it. He stepped on the closest.

Unsurprisingly, nothing happened.

He stepped over to the next, and again, nothing. He moved to the third, which also did absolutely nothing, but the fourth did. As soon as he paused, a grinding noise rumbled through the floor, and a stone platform materialized in front of the others.

Elissa knelt down to inspect it. From where he was standing, it looked hazy, like it wasn't really there, and Elissa confirmed those thoughts. She waved a hand through the image.

"We can't walk on that," Elissa said.

Aedan gestured across the gap. "Try the other side. Maybe those will do something."

She nodded and copied his approach, choosing to step on every single pressure plate until the bridge solidified. Morrigan took a step into the stone, and when she didn't fall through, Aedan knew they had it figured out.

Morrigan remained on the bridge while Aedan and Leliana tried to activate the next part. Elissa stayed in place out of caution; they didn't know what would happen if she stepped off the plate, so better safe than sorry.

"This is insufferable," Morrigan grumbled as she stepped onto another section of the bridge.

Once it was settled, though, that meant Aedan was stuck, so Elissa stepped off her side, and sure enough, as soon as she was gone, so was the bridge.

Leliana found the start of the third, and from what Aedan could tell, the side Elissa was on made the stones corporeal, so it was his and Leliana's job to find the plates that activated them. It was quick work once they'd figured that out—when Morrigan stepped onto the opposite side of the room, the entire bridge solidified.

"Finally," the witch said.

The three of them rushed across to meet her, eager to see this through, and when Aedan opened the next door, his jaw almost dropped. Never in his life had he seen anything so grand. Statues of who he could only assume were Hessarian and Maferath adorned alcoves along the walls.

And there, only a few short strides away, was the Urn itself. It sat atop a pedestal directly at the base of the largest statue of Andraste he'd ever seen. A brazier was lit in her hand, and he wondered exactly how long that fire had been burning.

"Wow," was all he could say.

He took a step forward, but Elissa yanked him back. Across the floor was a small groove, a reservoir, for fuel, and he'd stepped on the plate that activated it. Fire erupted and spread across the room, blocking their path.

"There is only one way forward."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan to update so quickly, but being stuck in quarantine kind of has its perks, right? And I couldn't really stop myself after finishing the last chapter. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, everyone! It means a lot that you guys are enjoying this story, and I hope you continue to!

Chills shot down Elissa's spine. Snow was pounding down on them mercilessly, blanketing them and the entire countryside for as far as the eye could see. The wind was gusting and picking up snow that had already fallen, blowing it around in fantastical patterns and shapes.

Had she not been _freezing,_ Elissa might've thought it was beautiful.

"I do not understand how you Fereldans put up with this," Leliana muttered.

Elissa didn't reply in favor of wrapping her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Thankfully, she wasn't wearing an entire suit of armor like Aedan, Alistair, or Sten, but she wasn't wrapped up in leathers like Leliana or Zevran, either. Even Morrigan and Wynne were wearing simple clothes, and those had to be warmer than the chainmail Elissa wore.

She had a thin shirt on underneath the chain, followed by another thin shirt to keep the wind out, and then pants, boots, and her gloves. She had never really worn much of any armor, preferring her range of motion to being a walking battering ram, and it worked for her in some scenarios. Sure, there were other women who were much stronger than she by following the battering ram technique, but Elissa would always be faster.

It suited her, anyway. When they were young, their father had been more than happy to help his children find their strong points in battle. Fergus had been strong, very, very strong. Elissa had never wanted to attempt sparring with him; she knew he'd win, every time.

Aedan had been analytical. He could predict every attack, every block, before it came, far before he should've had the skill to do so. He wasn't as big as Fergus, but watching the two of them fight never disappointed. It was anyone's guess who would win, they were so evenly matched.

And Elissa? She'd just been too quick to hit. She excelled at taking blows and repositioning, or just avoiding them altogether, and her new friend seemed to only make her better at it.

The wind ripped under her cloak, knocking the fabric from her grip, and she staggered.

_Wait._

As she straightened, Elissa recognized something. The way Leliana was looking at her, the concerned expression. Alistair and Aedan only a few feet away, still marching along. Their exact posture was identical. She'd seen it before. She'd _been_ here before.

Elissa had forgotten about it completely. It had been so long, so many months ago, and just now it was happening.

This had been her dream all those months ago when she'd first confessed to being a mage. It wasn't _perfectly_ identical, but it was close enough. Zevran and Wynne weren't in the dream. Sam had been at Aedan's side and not her own, but she knew this was it.

As a child, this had happened twice. It happened right before she'd used magic the first time, and right after. She had seen herself the night before, seen herself set that stupid bear on fire after it chased them, and then she'd seen herself watching their castle burn. She'd seen the two most defining points of her life, all before anyone could've ever known they'd happen.

And then Elissa had seen this, because in the dream, Aedan died.

Both times, the dreams had been flawless in portraying what would occur. There were no differences whatsoever. This one, though, Wynne and Zevran were wildcards. Sam was in a different place. Even she was, walking with Leliana instead of Sten, but then, they didn't change, did they? There was no way to alter the outcome.

She needed to know first. She needed to know she wasn't going crazy, that trauma and confusion hadn't altered her memories.

She fell back a few strides to join Wynne, who was trudging along surprisingly well with her staff.

"I have a question," Elissa whispered, leaning as closely as possible.

Wynne made a face, almost like speaking was difficult for her, and it very well might've been. The wind was blowing straight in their faces, after all. "Do you not think questions might be asked at a better time?"

"It's important," Elissa said. "Please, Wynne." The elderly mage's nod was enough, and she immediately rattled off some insane description of her problem, to which Wynne only stared.

"You'll have to slow down, Warden. I didn't understand a thing you said."

"Is it possible to dream of things that haven't happened yet?"

She frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think it's happening to me," Elissa snapped. "Why else? I've seen myself use my first spell before I even knew what magic was. I saw my family die, years before it ever happened, and now..."

Her voice caught in her throat and she looked away, inhaling deeply.

"Is it possible, Wynne?"

At the front of the party, she saw Aedan and Morrigan conversing, followed quickly by the mage leaping into the air as a raven, and dread settled in her gut. In the dream, they had been attacked by darkspawn, but she couldn't sense any now, so that was something.

"Is it possible?" Elissa demanded again, grabbing Wynne by the arm to pull her to a stop.

The woman chewed on her lip, thinking, and that feeling of dread grew as Zevran and Sten passed them.

"Perhaps, but that—"

Something in her chest tugged, that same feeling that would throw Elissa out of harm's way in a fight, but this time, it did nothing of the sort. Wynne's voice fell out of earshot, but her mouth was still moving. No sound came. Every fleck of snow was hanging in place, and it was like that feeling was pulling Elissa forward, into the storm.

That was when she realized it wasn't pulling on her, but alerting her. So faintly, Elissa could see the flash of an arrowhead as it caught a small ray of sunlight, and she pulled her shield off her back. It was barely secured on her arm when the arrow collided with it, sending painful vibrations up and down her arm.

Wynne's eyes met hers. In those grey eyes, Elissa could see confusion, fear, and what looked like curiosity.

This hadn't happened in the dream. Sten had saved her from a hurlock, not—

A man bellowed at the top of his lungs as he charged at her, but she wasn't prepared. The next thing she knew, she'd been knocked to the ground, and Sten was there, ripping his greatsword through the man's chest.

Not too far from where they were, a horn screamed its call to action. Red blood was dripping from Sten's sword, not black, and weirdly enough, Elissa found that comforting. Another detail that was wrong. She remembered staring at that blade as the blood dripped off it. It had been a hurlock's, not a man's, and if the dream was wrong about that, it could be wrong about Aedan dying.

The numbness in her legs wasn't a shock when she scrambled upright. She was freezing.

"Aedan!"

Around her, the sounds of people fighting erupted. Spells and arrows shot around her, illuminating strange shapes in the storm.

"Elissa!"

He sounded so far away.

She found herself running as carelessly as she had dreamt, and she called out to him again.

The panic was there. She could feel it building in her chest, feel that same stirring as the spirit possessing her awoke. She had to get herself under control, but she couldn't. Aedan was in danger. She had to find him. She had to protect him. If she lost Aedan, Elissa didn't know what she'd do.

She yelled his name again, but got no answer. People were fighting, screaming as they died.

She could feel it. That thing was fighting for control, and in her fear, Elissa couldn't hold it off. It was winning, slowly but surely, and she stumbled, falling to the snow as it ripped its way free.

One of their attackers came from the storm, clad in fine armor, and didn't skip a beat. He brought his sword around in a flash, but she— _it_ —was faster. Elissa was standing, watching, as she absolutely destroyed that soldier. It all happened so quickly she couldn't even comprehend it.

With a simple flick of her wrist, the spirit sent the air around them rushing out at every angle. There was such force behind it, Elissa could see enemies and friends getting knocked off their feet as the snow cleared. It was similar to the spell Wynne had cast when they were fighting the dragon, but it didn't stop the storm from raging. It just slowed the snowfall in a small bubble, allowing her to see every single person in a ten yard radius.

She was the only one standing.

Several men and women she didn't recognize were struggling to their feet, saying things to each other in a language she barely understood to be Orlesian.

Elissa couldn't bring herself to watch as the spirit dragged her around to slaughter these poor people. Killing hadn't bothered her as it did Aedan, but this...this was unfair. They had no chance. The spirit cut through them like a knife through butter. Not once did any of them come close to laying a finger on Elissa's body, and she was forced to watch as she tore through the fighting.

It was so brutal. She could vaguely taste the blood in her mouth, but when she pushed at the spirit, it _shoved,_ forcing her back. It was not happy.

An arrow struck Elissa's shoulder. No, a crossbow bolt. She could feel the rage building up inside of her, inside of that monster, and she prayed for whatever idiot had shot at it.

Without breaking stride, it reached up and tore the bolt out of her flesh. Her hand glowed as the thing healed its own wound, and then it sought out its newest target—a man standing not too far from her, hurriedly rushing to reload his crossbow.

Frost licked over Elissa's fingertips as the spirit threw her sword to the ground. Cold mist fell as it readied its spell, and she just watched in sickened awe as a spike of ice shot from her hand into his stomach.

She scooped up her sword and stalked over to him. Blood was staining the snow, staining her boots, her sword, everything. There was so much red, Elissa wasn't entirely sure that just wasn't how the spirit saw things. The poor man was coughing up more of the stuff, holding the hole in his gut like it would somehow save him.

"Wait!"

A hand locked around Elissa's arm, tried and failed to pull the sword down, and the spirit lashed out, knocking the person off without a moment's hesitation. Elissa couldn't see clearly anymore; it was trying to prevent her from watching. It wanted complete control, and it knew it had it.

"What are you doing?!"

A sword collided with Elissa's. She recognized it. It was Aedan's. Why was he...?

It had been Leliana. The thing tried to kill her.

Her stomach twisted into knots and disgust and fear roiled through her, and the next thing she knew, it was her falling back to the ground, and not the spirit.

Elissa threw her sword as far away from herself as possible, but she knew that wouldn't do anything to protect anyone if it came back. She understood now. She knew she couldn't control it. It would do what it wanted, regardless of Elissa's feelings.

Aedan helped Leliana to her feet, sword still pointed at Elissa's chest.

She was the monster. She was the threat now, not these men who had ambushed them, not the darkspawn she'd dreamt of. It was her. The dream hadn't been trying to warn her about anything but herself.

"I-I'm sorry," Elissa stammered. "I didn't...I wasn't..."

"You idiot!" Morrigan snarled. The witch was marching over to them. Her hair was disheveled, bangs falling loose of the bun she typically kept it in, and there was a cut on her chin that was new. "Did my warnings mean nothing to you?"

"I couldn't—"

"You could've killed all of us!"

Elissa unstrapped her shield as she stood, now furious more than anything else. Furious that she'd not protected herself better, furious that Morrigan was yelling at her, furious at _everything._

"I tried to stop it!" Elissa retorted. "I couldn't!"

"If you would listen to me, you wouldn't have failed."

Elissa threw her hands up. "I do! I haven't done anything wrong—"

"You have," Morrigan hissed. Her eyes flicked to Aedan and Leliana, and she said, "You are quite lucky our Warden decided to intervene when she did, or you'd both be dead."

"It's not that easy," Elissa snapped. "It's not something I can turn off and on."

"What are you talking about?" Aedan demanded.

Elissa clenched her jaw, bit her tongue, and Morrigan crossed her arms. "I have kept your secret, Warden, but no longer. Either you tell them, or I will."

She looked away, swallowed deeply. She couldn't. She couldn't tell them. If she did, they'd leave her here, or kill her, or worse, look at her like she was a wounded animal. She didn't want anyone's pity.

"Tell them," Morrigan repeated.

Elissa squeezed her eyes shut. She took a deep breath, but it caught in her throat.

"I'm possessed."

Silence hung in the air for several minutes. Even the storm, outside the bubble the spirit had created, seemed to rage quieter. Elissa was acutely aware of every breath Aedan took, every breath Leliana took, every breath Morrigan took. Everyone's eyes were on her. She wasn't sure what was worse—the looks she was getting, or the silence.

"W-what do you mean?" Alistair asked.

"Exactly what it sounds like," she snapped angrily. "I'm possessed. What about that is hard to understand?"

"If you were—"

"Not by a demon," Morrigan interrupted. "Of that much, we are lucky."

Elissa allowed her eyes to meet Aedan's, but she couldn't look at Leliana. She'd struck her, hadn't she? The spirit, not her, but it was probably enough to turn whatever friendship they'd had sour. Elissa wouldn't blame her.

"Then by what?" Aedan asked.

"A spirit of some sort," Wynne suggested. "It's not common, but it does happen. Oftentimes, it would be a weaker spirit, one of compassion or justice, but..."

"Such spirits would not put on quite the display," Morrigan finished. "There was nothing compassionate or honorable about what happened here."

"So you're an abomination," Aedan surmised, looking right back at Elissa. "Like at the tower?"

She swallowed again, and then said, "I don't remember the tower. That...wasn't me." His eyebrows creased together. "It was the thing inside of me."

"How long?" he asked quietly.

"Not very, most likely," Wynne said. "It's rare enough weaker spirits get drawn across the Veil, and even rarer stronger ones get pulled across, much less take an interest in a mortal." The mage regarded Elissa for several long seconds. "I wonder what it could be that drew it to you."

Elissa made a face, and then retrieved her sword. All of their eyes were on her as she shoved the weapon into its sheath. "Do you still think I'm babbling nonsense, Wynne, or can we talk about my previous question now?"

"What question?" Aedan asked.

While Elissa returned her shield to her back, she said, "Do you remember the last time I had one of those dreams, Aedan? The one that I said you died in?" He nodded, so she continued. "This was where it happened, except it was darkspawn, and not men, and I was the one that did it. Before we were ambushed, I asked Wynne if it was possible to see the future, and she said it was."

"I said it could be," Wynne interrupted. "I've never heard of such magic, but I'm sure someone has somewhere."

Morrigan's eyes narrowed. "When we were in the Fade, you were the only one of us that was not present. Where were you?"

"I was in the Fade," Elissa said. "I was with...the spirit."

"But do you remember how you got there?" Morrigan urged. She didn't sound angry now, but rather excited, and extremely curious.

"No. I can't even remember what really happened in the Fade."

"When you dream, do demons call out to you?"

Elissa frowned. "Are they supposed to?"

"How do you think mages succumb to possession?" Wynne asked.

"Do you remember a time that they ever spoke to you?" Morrigan pressed. "You would've heard voices, asleep or awake. They would ask you to help them across the Veil."

Elissa swallowed nervously, and asked, "What are you implying?"

"I know how you got the attention of a spirit," Morrigan said. "Whether or not you are aware of it, when you entered the Fade at the Circle, you entered it in a way none of us would ever be capable of. I suspect your spirit drew you there to protect you, and when it sensed us escaping from the sloth demon, it returned you."

Wynne interjected with, "A dreamer?"

"Somniari," Morrigan corrected. "They are said to be powerful mages, and such power could attract spirits of faith and hope."

"What the hell is a dreamer?" Aedan demanded.

Elissa's brain was hurting. Everything she'd ever wanted to keep secret from her brother, from Leliana, from all of them, was out. All of her secrets, all of her struggles, they were laid bare for them to see, and it made her sick.

"They are capable of entering the Fade without lyrium or blood magic," Wynne explained. "It's even rarer than seeing benevolent spirits on this side of the Veil. I've only read of dreamers in scrolls and stories. I did not think they were real."

"Of course not. The Circle is—"

"Enough," Aedan said. "There's no reason to argue." His eyes turned to Elissa, who had been quiet despite the fact that they were talking about her. "Does that sound possible to you, sister?"

She shrugged meekly. "I don't know what I am."

He started to say something else, but she heard the familiar crunch of snow as someone tried to sneak away. She spun on her heel immediately, eyes locking on one of the mercenaries as he tried to crawl away.

She could feel her anger boiling over, but Elissa swallowed it as Sten caught the man. He lifted him up by the back of his chestplate, and despite his struggling, Sten dropped him in the center of their clearing.

How Elissa was still holding the snow at bay, she didn't know, but she was grateful for this man's distraction.

He muttered something in Orlesian, and being the only person here to speak the language, Leliana kneeled in front of him to demand answers. Their conversation was brief, but it was obvious the man was terrified.

Elissa watched as several different expressions passed over Leliana. Hurt, fear, anger, grief. All of them at once. She wanted to comfort her, ask what was wrong, but before she could even try, Leliana had her sword free, and she slit the man's throat.

Elissa had never seen Leliana use the thing, but now, it was obvious she knew how to.

"What did you do that for?" Aedan demanded.

Leliana was shaking, staring at the man's corpse as he choked on his blood until he fell silent.

"Leliana?"

Very deliberately, the woman wiped her sword off on the man's pants, and then stood back up. Elissa could see tears in her eyes, but also, a cold venom that even unnerved her.

"They were sent to kill me."


	22. Chapter 22

"Did you tell him?"

Aedan paused, tore his eyes from the ramparts and the surrounding cliffs, and looked to his sister. "Tell him that we plan to push me to be king?"

Elissa shrugged. "Well...yeah."

He laughed in disbelief, shook his head. "How the hell am I supposed to do that? Hey, thanks for wasting your supplies to make us new armor, and by the way, Alistair and my sister think it's a great idea to make me king instead of him."

"And why not?"

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Elissa raised a brow, bemused, as he said, "I swear to the Maker, sometimes you're as stupid as Alistair."

She pouted. "Leliana thinks I'm funny."

"That's because you have identical senses of humor."

Elissa grinned as he continued his walk, jogging a few steps to catch up. While they were hunting down the Ashes, Bann Teagan, Eamon's younger brother, had the local smith set to crafting sets of Grey Warden armor for them. Only Elissa's had been finished, given it had less work needed put into it as it was lighter and quicker to craft. All the smith had needed to make himself had been the chainmail—the leathers and robes were auctioned off to other craftsmen, and just as fine as the mail itself. Adjustments had to be made, considering the outfit was crafted without her there for measurements, but before they left, it would be ready.

It was oddly exciting.

Arrangements were made for similar armor to be made for Aedan and Alistair, but it would have to be heavier, considering the men's positioning in battle. Teagan had figured even if they couldn't save Eamon, they had saved Connor and Redcliffe itself, so it was payment for a debt.

Perhaps a bit pricey, but they couldn't look a gift like that in the mouth. It was sorely needed equipment, and they were beyond grateful.

"Are we going back to Denerim, then?" Elissa asked softly.

He nodded. "We'll be going with Eamon and his knights, so we should be safer than we were last time. He needs time to call the Landsmeet and get things organized, so that'll give us the time we need to settle our treaty with the dwarves." Elissa didn't have to say anything for him to add, "And time for us to find this woman hunting Leliana."

Her jaw snapped shut and she looked away.

"Alistair has family business to attend to while we're there, so it should be a rather productive trip, I think."

She nodded. "That's good."

"What's wrong?"

"Hmm? Nothing. I was just thinking."

Aedan stopped again, turning to face her, and he frowned. "No, don't do that with me. I know what you look like when you're stressed, and you're doing that thing with your nose right now."

She almost laughed. "What do you mean, thing with my nose?"

"You're not changing the subject," Aedan retorted. "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

She eyed the jewel of his necklace, the one that their father had given him at the temple. Elissa had watched him the night after, watched him debate about actually keeping it before tucking away his pendant to replace it. She still wore hers, the one with the darkspawn blood from the Joining. It was hidden under her shirt, but she never took it off.

"It's nothing," Elissa said dismissively. "I'm just...I don't know. It's really sinking in, I guess."

And it wasn't exactly a lie, because it was. They'd gained three allies to help them fight the Blight, and only had one treaty left before they were ready to address Ferelden itself. The idea of that was absolutely terrifying. She barely knew who Loghain was, let alone the Guerrins, or any other family of import.

What was truly bothering her was the way Leliana was secluding herself from the rest of them, mostly herself. They hadn't spoken since...since the ambush, and not for Elissa's lack of trying. Elissa wanted desperately to apologize, to talk, to just listen to her talk about something stupidly Orlesian as usual, and Leliana wanted nothing to do with her. She didn't think it would hurt this bad if she didn't watch Leliana talk and laugh with everyone else, but then, she deserved it, didn't she?

She had almost killed her. Of course a rational person would avoid someone who did that, but Elissa just couldn't come to terms with it.

She continued her walk with Aedan along the walls of Redcliffe for a while longer. It was good to spend time with him. They could rarely just be together anymore, comfortable in knowing that despite everything they'd been through, they still had each other. Elissa didn't know where she'd be right now if Aedan wasn't leading them, and she was grateful for it.

It wasn't the first time she thought how proud their parents would be of him. He was everything they could've wanted in a son.

Eventually, Elissa excused herself, saying she was hungry and wanted some time to herself before leaving. Time alone was hard to come by these days, and perhaps it would give her time to think without any distractions. It would be welcome, considering they were about to be well and truly stuck with each other.

Instead of heading to the kitchens, though, Elissa found herself wandering by the shoreline, watching the waves roll lazily along the sand. It reminded her of Highever, made her homesick. She had enjoyed watching the Waking Sea, enjoyed the feel of salty air spray across her skin and the smell of the water. This wasn't the same, but it was as close as she would get until the Blight was over, and it would have to do.

She crouched in the water. It was cold on her knees, her hands as she ran her fingers through it. In another life, she thought she might have enjoyed sailing, or perhaps fishing. Elissa could see herself out there on the lake, with the townsfolk, just living their lives and feeding their families. It was a simple life, but it was a life empty of all the pain and suffering they went through everyday.

One of Wynne's lessons wormed its way into her head. Every mage had something they had a natural inclination to, some type of magic they would excel at. Elissa would've thought hers would be something else, but the way her passenger was drawn to ice spells and water...perhaps...?

She dipped her hand into the water, and without any effort, it froze around her.

Elissa jumped, equal parts excited and terrified. _She_ did that. Not her spirit, she did it, and it had been trying to tell her that all along.

The longer she was stuck with this thing, the longer she understood it was only trying to protect her. It didn't bother her unless she was in danger, had kept her dreams as a child free of any demons or monsters, and kept her alive at least once. In its own way, Elissa thought it cared for her, but then, what did it see her as?

Helpless, lost, scared, but brave.

That wasn't her thinking that. She had asked a question, and it had answered.

Elissa gulped as she sat back up, reaching for the small square of ice lapping against her boots. It was paper thin, broke in her fingers.

"What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

She lingered as long as she pleased. They would be spending the night here no matter what happened—sleeping in a real bed sounded so impossible it couldn't have been real. Denerim had been such a delight, having gotten to sleep in a bed for several nights, but Elissa was constantly worried about being found by Loghain or Howe, so what sleep she had managed hadn't been good enough to matter.

This, though, oh, she was going to enjoy it more than anything. A warm, soft bed, safe from any immediate danger. Elissa almost thought she was dreaming.

When boredom inevitably consumed her, Elissa stood and sighed after rinsing her hands in the water. It was invigorating knowing she was making progress with her abilities. Small ones, maybe, but it was progress, and that was all she cared about. If she could figure out what made her spirit tick, she would be even happier. As long as it learned its place in her life, she believed they could find a way to exist.

She had to.

Aedan was the only person who would really talk to her now. He was the only one who wasn't terrified of her, or disturbed, or anything, and she hadn't hurt any of them, so he figured it didn't matter. If anything, he was relieved he didn't have to constantly make sure she was all right, or worry about her getting possessed by a demon.

Granted, this spirit was more dangerous than any demon they'd run into, but it seemed to like them well enough, and Elissa was pretty sure she had a decent handle on it, so that was good enough for him. Wynne or Morrigan, though, they disagreed. Neither woman could come up with a better suggestion of what to do about it or Elissa, so she was stuck with them anyway. At least Morrigan hadn't suggested killing her on the spot. That was a positive.

* * *

For the first time in a long time, Elissa felt well rested when she woke up. Her muscles didn't ache from sleeping on the ground, and nothing was too stiff. If anything, she felt too good. She hadn't realized how spoiled she had been just by having a bed every night, and as soon as that was ripped away, she had missed it.

Her stomach growled as she got dressed. She threw on loose black trousers and a white shirt, belted on her sword, laced up her boots, and headed out of her room. Breakfast was calling her name, but Elissa hesitated as her door closed behind her.

Eamon didn't have much space for guests, but he'd had a few spare rooms, just enough for the majority of them to avoid buddying up. Alistair and Aedan shared a room, and Elissa had offered to share so Morrigan could have her own, but she had turned the offer down, preferring the company of the animals in the surrounding wood.

Besides, Elissa hadn't necessarily wanted to share a room with Wynne, let alone Sten or Zevran, but she doubted Leliana wanted anything to do with her. She hadn't even seen her since yesterday morning, so that pretty much answered that question.

But her door was _right there_ and it took much more willpower than Elissa had to walk away. The next thing she knew, she was across the hall, knocking rather obnoxiously on the door. Leliana and Morrigan were typically the first in the party to wake, and Elissa one of the last, so there was a good chance Leliana wasn't even there. She was probably eating, or at the Chantry, or just...doing something else.

There was some shuffling inside, and then silence. Elissa remained, however, and waited rather impatiently for an answer.

She looked up and down the hall, and then said, "Leli?"

Something shifted in the air. The sound of footsteps reached her ears, followed by the sounds of locks clicking, and the door swung open.

Elissa was just surprised she'd gotten an answer. She hadn't expected the bard to even say anything, much less open the door.

Leliana was wearing something similar to Elissa's outfit, but it looked better on her, without a doubt. Her pants were fitted and her shirt hung loosely over her shoulders, and again, it took a lot of effort to keep her eyes cemented on Leliana's.

"What did you call me?"

Elissa blinked, confused by the question. It hadn't been what she was expecting, but then, none of this was. "Uh..."

Leliana stepped back into her room, turning her back on Elissa, and said, "Is it strange I knew you'd end up here?"

Cautiously, Elissa followed, nudging the door shut behind her. "I mean, no, not really. You're pretty smart and I'm pretty stupid, so..."

Leliana sat at a small table in the middle of the room while Elissa awkwardly hung around the door, eyes roaming. Her things were set neatly against a dresser, the only other piece of furniture in the room aside from the bed itself. There was a mirror, something Elissa's room was lacking, and a washbasin atop the dresser.

"What are you doing here, Elissa?"

Her eyes flicked back to Leliana. The bard had her elbows leaning on the table and her hands folded neatly in front of her expectant face.

"Uh..." She cleared her throat, and then decided, she'd already bitten off more than she could chew by even coming over here, so she might as well throw caution to the wind and go all the way. She sat across from Leliana and said, "I wanted to apologize."

One red eyebrow went up. "For?"

She shifted a bit, uncomfortable with the way Leliana was looking at her. It was like she was sizing her up, the way a hunter would look at its prey.

"For what happened when those men ambushed us," Elissa said. "I should've done... I don't even know." Elissa ran her hands down her face. "I'm really bad at apologizing."

"You're lucky, then," Leliana said. "I don't want an apology."

She...what? No, this was a game, wasn't it? There was no way she didn't.

Elissa frowned. "Then...what?"

Leliana leaned over the table, hands falling to her sides, and she said, "I want you to be honest with me. Have I not been completely honest with you?"

"No, not really."

Leliana waved a hand. "I told you my secrets. All of them. I told you everything that might result in someone getting hurt, and you didn't."

Elissa almost laughed. Was that...? Was she being serious?

"How am I supposed to bring that up?"

"You brought up being a mage just fine."

"I was panicking!" Elissa retorted. "What would you do in my shoes, Leliana? Think about it. You just watched your brother die in vivid detail, after leaving the rest of your family and knowing you might've been able to save them. Stress makes people do stupid shit." She sat back in the chair, now more annoyed than nervous, and sighed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"And I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth about my past sooner," Leliana said, "but we can't keep these secrets, Elissa. They're too dangerous."

She swallowed. "You're right."

"I don't...want an apology," Leliana continued. "I just want you to promise me we won't keep these things from each other. If I'd known about...that—" She waved a hand again, this time in Elissa's direction. "—I would've just left you go, but I didn't, and you could've killed us."

"It's hard to talk about," Elissa admitted.

"I won't make you talk about it. Just tell me if you're keeping anything else from me."

Elissa shook her head, forced her eyes elsewhere. "No, there's nothing else."

Leliana stood, the sound of pushing her chair back screeching rather obnoxiously. She offered Elissa a hand up. "Come on, then. Someone was knocking outside your door an hour ago. I think the armorer was ready for you."


	23. Chapter 23

"How do I look?"

Leliana had been sitting at the base of an old windmill, patiently waiting for Elissa to finish up with Redcliffe's blacksmith. Crafting armor took quite a while, and it was impressive enough that Owen had gotten so close to perfection without Elissa even there.

She tore her eyes from the weeds she was weaving together. What she'd been making, Leliana didn't know. It was something she used to do as a child. It was relaxing, a great distraction, and Maker only knew how desperately Leliana needed distracting right now.

Doubly so, if Elissa decided to wear _that_ ever again.

Leliana gulped as she got up. The twigs fell from her hands, but she didn't notice. She was too busy just...looking.

She had seen a Grey Warden in uniform once before, when she was younger, and she'd been just as stunned before as she was now. The blues and silvers weren't the exact same as they were on the Orlesian Warden she had met, but then, they weren't in Orlais, were they? There was a distinctly Fereldan style to the armor—the blue jacket was lined with black fur. There were other details, smaller ones, but Leliana didn't care.

Elissa shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat. "Hello? Anyone home?"

Leliana blinked, forced her eyes up to Elissa's so they wouldn't travel where they shouldn't. "Yes, sorry." She coughed. "What was the question?"

"How does it look?"

It took every fiber of her being to keep from reaching out and touching her. Every ounce of willpower Leliana had was put into remaining still.

"It looks great," she said. "Very...Grey Warden-y."

Elissa laughed. "Grey Warden-y?"

Leliana couldn't think of a better description. Her mind was wandering, examining every inch of the woman in front of her. She'd never really had an excuse to look at her like she was now, but if Elissa asked, she could just say she was impressed with the craftsmanship. Knowing Elissa, though, she'd be too embarrassed to ask.

"What else would it look like?" Leliana said defensively.

Elissa grinned as she shrugged. She seemed proud of it, the armor. She was very happy. She wouldn't even notice if Leliana said something risque, she was so excited. It was adorable, endearing. It was good to see her smiling like that.

"I'm starving," Elissa said.

Leliana shook her head a bit, trying to empty it of any inappropriate thoughts, and said, "Oh, I'm aware. Trust me."

"You can hear my stomach growl?"

"I've had to listen to it for several months."

The indignant look on Elissa's face—priceless. She would never admit it, but a lot of the time they spent together, Elissa would be eating. She'd never admit to hiding snacks from the other two Wardens in their party, but Leliana was well aware she did that too. Not that she judged. Again, Leliana found it rather adorable. The three of them could tear through their dinners like no other, so it was no surprise that Elissa would use the little coin she gathered to buy herself food. Leliana just thought it was funny.

All that meant was she could bring Elissa food and she'd be happy, so it made her life easier.

"You're not very with it today, are you?" Elissa asked.

"I...have a lot to think about."

The look Elissa gave her, that one wasn't indignant. It was...something. Leliana couldn't put her finger on what it was exactly, but it was looks like that that made her doubt Elissa was totally oblivious to her flirting, or the way she looked at her. Maybe Elissa just didn't want to admit it to herself, and that was why she was so awkward.

"Marjolaine?"

The name ripped any thought of romance from Leliana's mind. It left her with a bitter taste in her mouth and a very firmly rooted sense of inadequacy.

"No," Leliana said. "Believe it or not, I haven't really been thinking about her. Or...that, actually."

"Hmm. What have you been thinking about, then?"

Leliana shook her head, dismissing the question. "Nothing."

"But that's not what you just said."

Leliana made a face at her and Elissa laughed again. She was cleverer than she gave herself credit for, than Leliana sometimes gave her credit for. It was hard to forget the petulant child Elissa had been when they first met, the one that didn't really think before speaking. Elissa still didn't do that often, but when she did, Leliana would notice.

"Are you...using my own words against me?"

Elissa smirked. "Perhaps."

"And what's got you in such a good mood on this fine morning?"

Elissa shrugged. Those blues...they suited her very well. The dark tones contrasted nicely with her skin, blended well with her hair. "Good company and good rest will do wonders for a person, Leli."

She snorted. "Where'd that nickname come from?"

Again, the Warden shrugged. "You don't like it?"

"Maybe I do," Leliana said mysteriously, backing up the path towards the castle. "Maybe I don't."

She spun on her heel, knowing Elissa would follow.

"Didn't we just agree not to keep secrets from each other?"

"This one won't hurt."

Elissa jogged a few steps to catch up to her. "It'll hurt my feelings."

Leliana outright laughed at the joke, looking at her companion like she'd grown a second head. "I wasn't aware our fair Warden had those. My apologies."

" _You're_ calling _me_ pretty, now, huh?"

Leliana gave Elissa her best smirk, one with just enough sauciness behind it to make her squirm, and it worked. Elissa's face paled and she looked away immediately, swallowing deeply.

"I never said I didn't think you were pretty."

Elissa stammered, "Well, I... Neither did I."

Leliana arched an eyebrow. It was an expression she was fond of making. "That's not what I seem to recall. If you'd like to rescind that, though, I wouldn't complain."

There it was. That adorable flush around her neck, on her cheeks.

"Stop doing this to me."

"Doing what?" Leliana asked, feigning innocence.

Elissa sighed, exasperated, and gestured to herself. "This! Making me blush. I don't know!"

"It's not hard," Leliana giggled.

"Well, it's...it's not fair."

"Oh?" Leliana paused, turning to face Elissa. "And why is that, dear Warden?"

Elissa just looked at her like she was a clueless idiot, or maybe like she was crazy. Leliana couldn't tell—she was surprised, that much was obvious, and very flustered.

"B-because," Elissa said. "It's not."

Leliana made a tsk-ing sound and took a step back, towards the brush and away from Elissa. If she went, Elissa would follow. She always did. It almost hurt how innocent Elissa was about all of this, how nervous she was about all the wrong parts.

"That's not a good answer," Leliana said.

Elissa threw her hands up. "You're teasing me!"

"Who said I was just teasing?"

Elissa's face turned all shades of red and she reached out for Leliana's arm, but she twisted away and jumped back another step.

"The chase is part of the fun, my dear."

* * *

Elissa's legs were burning. Leliana was _so fast._

She came to a stop, heaving in a huge gasp of air, and fell over backwards in the grass. Heat rushed over her skin and sweat poured down her face, but she felt so alive it was ridiculous. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her skull.

This wasn't a game. Or it was. It wasn't a lie, that much Elissa was sure of.

She draped an arm over her eyes to shield them from the sun. Somewhere nearby, she heard leaves crunching as Leliana rejoined her.

"Is this payback for making you run up that mountain?" Elissa asked.

Leliana giggled. It was such a sweet sound. If Elissa's heart could beat any faster, she was sure it would. "Perhaps."

The bard crouched beside her and Elissa moved her arm, narrowing her eyes at Leliana. "That's my thing, not yours."

Leliana spread her hands helplessly, but she was still smiling. She was as out of breath as Elissa was. Thank the Maker for that; Elissa didn't want to be embarrassing herself in front of Leliana. Not now.

She propped herself up on her elbows and Leliana stood.

"So..." Leliana tilted her head. "Not teasing, huh?"

The grin she got in return made her heart skip a beat. "No."

Leliana offered a hand up and Elissa took it, perfectly fine with allowing her to yank her up on her feet. "I think you're going to have to prove that."

"You didn't catch me," Leliana retorted. "Maybe I'll consider it if you can."

And then she was gone again.

Elissa sucked in a huge breath, held it, and released before even attempting to follow. This woman was so impossible. She knew just how to get under Elissa's nerves, and it was so infuriating in all the right ways.

Leliana didn't run as fast as before, Maker be praised. She stayed just out of reach, urging Elissa to follow, both literally and figuratively. It was hard for her to resist as is, but Leliana kept telling her to keep up, made a few jokes about how she had to catch her, and Elissa was all for it.

She was never one to turn down a challenge.

The air was so clean here. No sign of birds, but then, it was winter. It felt good to be out, enjoying herself, and not worrying about anything else in the world. There was no Blight, no spirit possessing her, no Marjolaine trying to kill Leliana. It was just them.

Water was gurgling nearby, and eventually, Leliana slowed to a walk. Elissa didn't slow whatsoever, instead racing to her side and expecting a trick, but she caught Leliana's arm, and said, "Caught you."

Leliana rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Come _on._ "

She took Elissa's hand and pulled her in the direction of the water, but Elissa pulled back, determined. "I was promised something."

The bard laughed and said, "I said I'd consider it." She tugged again, this time impatient. "Come on. I want to show you something."

Elissa allowed Leliana to lead her along. She could smell the water. It wasn't salty like she was accustomed to, but it was just as pleasant, left the air tasting crisp and clean. Another pang of homesickness shot through Elissa. She would do anything to see Highever again, no matter how unlikely their survival became. She wanted to see her home one last time.

Leliana had led her to a small clearing. A small stream gurgled through, breaking a rather peaceful silence. Dead leaves and twigs were scattered about, with little green save from a few weeds here and there.

Their hands fell apart and Elissa found herself missing the contact, even if they were both wearing gloves. It felt so brief, too brief.

Leliana crunched her way down to the stream and sat, knees drawn up to her chest. Elissa, like the lost puppy metaphor she seemed to fit so well, followed without hesitation, sitting closer than she'd typically dare. She couldn't help herself. Even if this was same game Leliana was playing, Elissa was too far gone to just forget about it.

"In the summer, this place is filled with Andraste's Grace," Leliana said softly.

"How'd you know about it?"

"Do you think all my time in Ferelden was spent on Denerim and Lothering?"

Elissa looked away, feeling somewhat sheepish. She didn't want to say yes, but that's exactly what she thought. "I forget most people aren't trapped at home."

Leliana offered a smile, but it was sad. "You're not anymore."

"No, but if I was, none of this would have happened. No Blight, no mad rush around the entire country trying to save people's lives." She inhaled a shaky breath, watched the water. "My family would still be alive."

"You miss them a lot, don't you?"

Elissa nodded meekly. "Maybe it's stupid, but..." She shrugged. "I'm tired of talking about me and my problems."

Leliana's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh?"

"All I do is complain."

"I like listening," Leliana said. She followed Elissa's gaze across the small stream, to the other side and the forest beyond. "If I didn't, how would I know how calming you would find something like this?"

Elissa made a face. "What?"

"Whenever we pass a river or a stream, or cross one, you get this sad look in your eye," Leliana explained. "At the tower, I watched you wander off to sit in the lake, and yesterday, I watched you sit on the shoreline. Highever is on the coast."

Was that...?

Elissa's eyes narrowed as Leliana talked, tuning her out. Whatever she was talking about, Elissa was sure it was sweet and probably would've made her heart melt, but just in the other side of the stream, she was sure she saw it.

"Hang on."

Elissa hopped up and over the water, landing in a tangle of brambles and twigs. The brush was thick here, thicker than she'd anticipated, and she wasn't thrilled with the way everything clung to her clothes. They were brand new—she wasn't hoping to rip them up already, but if she was going to, Elissa figured Leliana was worth it.

Buried under a layer of dead branches was a small bush. Many of its leaves were dried out, but one blossom stood out in the rest of the color palette. Snow white, with a blood red center, and yellow sprouts coming from a brown center.

If Leliana hadn't mentioned she knew this was somewhere they grew, Elissa wouldn't have even seen it.

She made her way back to the Orlesian, grinning triumphantly. She landed deftly this time, trying harder than she should have to impress. To add a little bit of unnecessary flair, she made a show of bowing and presenting the flower as dramatically as possible.

Leliana laughed and rolled her eyes as she accepted the small gift. "How'd you even see this?"

Elissa shrugged as she sat. "I can do a lot of things that you'd probably think were crazy."

"Like what?"

Leliana untangled her braid and wove the flower stem into it, watching as Elissa reached into the stream. She had had a lot of time to practice yesterday. Plenty of time to play and enjoy herself, and now she had something to show for it.

"Wynne told me that every mage is good at something," Elissa explained. "She's good at healing magics. Morrigan is...whatever the fuck you want to call what she does. I couldn't figure out what it was that _I_ was good at, but this thing inside me keeps pushing these types of spells, and..." She trailed off as she pulled her hand back out of the water. A perfectly round piece of ice was sitting in the palm of her hand. "I can't do this without water right in front of me, but..." She shrugged. "I still think it's neat."

Leliana smiled and took the ice for herself, turning it over in her hands. "It's very neat, Elissa."

"I've spent my entire life hating magic and everything related to it," Elissa said as Leliana returned the ice to the stream. "It brought me nothing good, but here I am now, and I can't stop thinking that if I wasn't what I am, I wouldn't be here."

"The Maker—"

Elissa cut her off. "I don't want to hear about Him right now. I want to just...appreciate this."

She worried she might have offended—Leliana was very defensive about such things, and this would be prime time to get into an argument. Elissa regretted the words and the rudeness as soon as it left her mouth.

But Leliana didn't look upset. She looked like she understood.

"Who's to say if I wasn't a mage, I wouldn't have been married off to some man I couldn't stand?" Elissa wondered aloud. "I could be miles away from this very spot and never know it existed."

Her eyes flicked over to Leliana. She was just listening, but Elissa's implications, she hoped, were clear. Leliana was always so perceptive.

"Are you happy?"

Elissa swallowed deeply and sat up a little straighter. That was a question. That was _the_ question. What sane person would say yes, they were happy they were one of three Grey Wardens left to fight the darkspawn?

"Yeah, I am."

She meant it. She might regret not being able to make amends with her parents and she might miss them terribly, but their deaths made her who she was now, and Elissa thought the woman she was today was someone she could be proud of, someone they could be proud of. If she hadn't been flung into this position, would she have ever outgrown that resent?

After all, she still had Aedan. He was all she ever let herself have, so she knew no better, and he had been all the family she'd ever needed. They had been inseparable as children, teenagers, even adults. Where one went, the other followed.

And now, she was just as attached to this woman sitting beside her. An Orlesian bard, no less, but it didn't matter who she had been before. This person, this Leliana, was what mattered, just like who and what Elissa had been before didn't matter. This was who they were now, when it mattered.

When had Leliana gotten this close to her?

"Am I allowed to prove it to you yet?" she whispered.

Elissa gulped, but she nodded. Maybe this was a mistake. This could blow up in their faces tomorrow, but she decided she didn't care. If she died tomorrow, did she want to regret missing out on this?

No, no she didn't.

She was giving Elissa the chance to change her mind, but she didn't want to. They were so close, Elissa could smell that flower in her hair, feel Leliana's breaths on her face. She wasn't brave enough to do what she wanted. She squeezed her eyes shut and begged, prayed, that Leliana would just get it over with.

When Leliana kissed her, she swore her heart was going to beat straight out of her chest. She was so gentle, so soft, so painfully slow. Everything about it was exactly what Elissa refused to let herself desire, but now that she had it, she didn't think she'd be able to stop.

Leliana was gone as quickly as she came, ending the kiss before it ever began. She let out a small, nervous laugh, and a smile crept over her lips.

"I think I'm going to need more proof," Elissa said.

Leliana's laugh was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm done spamming this story now, I'm sorry I've just WANTED TO GET THIS OUT SO BAD. 
> 
> They are so adorable and I love them so much ok


	24. Chapter 24

Why was there _always_ something more that must be done before their treaties would be honored?

With the elves, it was the werewolf problem. With the mages, it was...the mages. And with the dwarves, it was shaping up to be their own politics preventing them from promising their aid.

From the way things were shaping up, it was looking like they would have to help either Prince Bhelen or Lord Harrowmont ascend to the throne before anything could be done. Elissa wasn't thrilled with the idea of political shit, so she was perfectly happy to sit on the sidelines and allow Aedan to, again, take the lead. He had much more experience with such matters anyway.

It was probably a good thing Aedan was making the decisions—from what she'd heard, Bhelen had betrayed his older brothers and gotten them both killed, and poisoned his father, just so he could be crowned king. Harrowmont was only following through with a promise he made to King Endrin on his deathbed, to not allow Bhelen what he wanted. For Elissa, siding with the nobleman would've been an easy solution, but Aedan did his homework, and where Bhelen wanted to lead the dwarves would end up far better than Harrowmont's direction.

So they were going to back a backstabber. How ironic.

Most of the party was either out with Aedan, or out stocking up on supplies before they would inevitably have to head into the Deep Roads. Aedan was finishing up one last job before they would head after some dwarf named Branka and something called the Anvil of the Void. It was the device the dwarves used to create golems, though now it was gone, lost to the darkspawn and winding maze of the Deep Roads.

Elissa, though, was content with sitting outside the bar and watching the goings-on. It felt too cramped inside despite having vaulted ceilings to allow humans and elves to maneuver.

Sam was sitting at her feet, napping, while they waited for everyone to return.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elissa was vaguely aware of a dwarf watching her. She had braided red hair, and looked nervous. She had been packaging something earlier, but now she was just shuffling her feet, as if she couldn't make her mind up.

Elissa highly doubted anything sinister behind her actions. If anything, she looked like she wanted to talk, but Elissa was stubborn, and refused to be the one to make the first move. She glanced at the dwarf again. Still there, still clearly debating on her options.

Several more minutes passed of this, until the dwarf cautiously came up beside her.

"Y-you're not from around here, right?"

Elissa made a face. "What gave it away, the fact that I'm taller than everyone else, or the dog?"

She chuckled, but it was strained. "I've been trying forever to find someone who _really_ knows the surface world. I-I don't suppose you've heard of something called 'the Circle'?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Elissa said, sitting up straighter. "Why?"

The dwarf's face fell at the "unfortunately" part, but perked right back up when Elissa questioned her. "I've been trying to reach someone there for years! I've sent missives with every caravan, but I never get a reply." Elissa frowned, but decided against interrupting. This was an interesting conversation, if not a bit odd. "I want to know if they would accept me for study."

"You want to leave Orzammar?" No dwarf in their right mind _wanted_ to become a surfacer. They lost everything if they did, and this girl seemed even younger than Elissa. Did she really want to throw her entire life away for this?

"I want to go to the Circle to study," she continued. "I don't want to _do_ magic. No dwarf can cast spells, but I don't see why I shouldn't study it. It would be a valuable exchange. Orzammar would learn of one of the greatest natural forces of the surface. And the Circle gains direct access to our knowledge of lyrium smithing."

Elissa just looked at her for several seconds. "But you know what the Circle is, right? With the...templars and everything?" The dwarf didn't say a word, expecting Elissa to elaborate, but she didn't. "What's your name?"

"Dagna, daughter of Janar of the Smith Caste."

Elissa sighed. She had no desire to dash this dwarf's hopes. "Do you want me to take them your request?"

"That would be _wonderful._ "

Over the girl's shoulder, Elissa could see Aedan returning from the lower levels of the city, with Alistair, Morrigan, and Sten hot on his heels. He looked less than pleased.

She reverted her gaze to Dagna's, smiling and nodding out of politeness. "I'll do that, but I don't know if I'll be able to return. You might be waiting for word from them for a while."

She grinned. "I'll be happy to wait! Thank you so much!"

Aedan and the others joined her where she sat, and Dagna looked up at them, just as fascinated as before. She said a quick greeting, but left just after, running off with a far more excited gait than she'd possessed on her way over.

"Who was that?" Aedan asked.

Elissa made a face. "I'm going to be perfectly honest and say I have no idea." He laughed once, shaking his head as she stood. "How'd it go?"

"Terrible," Alistair deadpanned.

"Do you know how annoying it is to constantly be fighting at a disadvantage?" Aedan added. "I know what it's like to fight genlocks, but fuck, dwarves are so much smarter."

"You'll be fine," Elissa said. "Don't be such a baby."

"You try fighting someone half your height when they're standing less than an inch away," Alistair said. "Not fun."

"It wasn't difficult," Sten said.

It was one of the few times Elissa ever heard the qunari talk. She had heard one remark about how women weren't fighters and elected to steer clear of that minefield, but that joke, that was a good one.

"It's funny because he's taller than you," Aedan explained.

Alistair huffed as Elissa laughed. "Oh sure, everyone pick on poor Alistair."

Sam's ears perked up at the sound of Aedan's voice, the latter of which stooped over to give him a pat on the head. His tongue flopped out lazily as his tiny tail wagged. "Anyone else back yet?"

Elissa shook her head. "No, just us."

He nodded. "Go get yourselves cleaned up. We'll head out in a few hours."

Morrigan and Sten were gone within seconds, but Alistair lingered, sitting on Aedan's opposite side. He'd sat as they'd gone inside, and so had Elissa, leaving the mabari lying comfortably at his master's feet.

"Who's excited for darkspawn?" Alistair joked.

Elissa snorted, head shaking, and Aedan said, "Not me." She muttered her agreement as she sat back, leaning against the cleanly carved wall. If the stone was cold, Elissa couldn't tell. She was so warm everywhere in this city it almost drove her nuts.

She prayed it wasn't so bad in the Deep Roads. Between the darkspawn and whatever else they might find down there, she didn't want to worry about sweating her ass off on top of it.

"Who's coming with us?" she asked.

"Everyone," Aedan said immediately. "There's thousands of darkspawn out there and the three of us will draw them in like...like maggots to corpses. We're not walking in there with such a blatant disadvantage."

"Thank the Maker."

That news was welcome relief. Elissa hadn't been allowing herself to worry about such things, but it was relieving regardless. She didn't know what to expect. None of them did, not even Morrigan, in what seemed to be her endless knowledge of everything. There were very few things the witch didn't have an answer for, and how to handle the Deep Roads was one of them.

The only advice the dwarves gave was carrying only essentials, and as many of them as possible. Elissa had spent her free time buying as much jerky as she could. She even purchased two spare canteens and filled them with water from the various fountains. Everything else in her pack had been thrown into a pile on her bed, save a few rolls of linen and a container of a healing salve.

And her shield? She decided against bringing it. Perhaps it was a mistake, but it would allow her to carry more supplies, and leave people like Aedan or Alistair or Sten with less weight.

Little had been done to make Elissa trust herself or that spirit more, but if it came down to it, she knew she could count on it to save her ass. It hadn't failed her yet.

"—hasn't said anything about it yet?"

Alistair chuckled nervously, that same little laugh Elissa heard often enough, but never knew the cause of. "I've been avoiding him _and_ that topic."

"What topic?" Elissa asked.

"On becoming king," Alistair said.

Aedan took a deep breath. "Before we left, Eamon and I spoke about our plans for the Landsmeet, and he said we should put Alistair forward as our option for a ruler. And I...might have suggested Alistair's idea."

"And?"

"He was not, uh, thrilled with the plan," Aedan said. He put his face in his hands. "I've never felt like such an idiot. It sounded like I _wanted_ this. I barely felt qualified to run a teyrnir when Father and Fergus were leaving. How the hell am I supposed to run a country?"

Elissa shrugged. "Marry Anora and then everyone will shut up."

" _What?_ "

"You heard me."

Aedan and Alistair both laughed in disbelief. "I heard you, yeah, but why would you suggest it?"

"Think about it," Elissa started.

Aedan interrupted with, "All I've been thinking about is this."

She waved a hand at him, saying, "No, really think about it. Loghain obviously has supporters. Many people will want to see Anora remain queen. I'm sure if you suggested Alistair marrying her, Eamon would be perfectly fine with it. It's a logical decision—Cailan was a bit of an idiot, and no one really thinks he was ruling Ferelden. It's been Anora since they got married." She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. Elissa never liked the idea of political marriages, but that was precisely what she was suggesting Aedan do. "You marry her, and you have instant access to someone with experience leading a country. You're nowhere near as stupid as her last husband, so I'm sure she'll be grateful for that. Plus—"

"Don't you dare bring that up."

Elissa stared him down, expression just as serious as his, and said, "You—"

"It was _one time!_ "

"What are you talking about?" Alistair asked.

She leaned forward to see him past Aedan. "When we were kids, our father spent a lot of time in Denerim, and Aedan had a bit of a crush on Cailan's bride-to-be."

Alistair frowned, looked to Aedan, back to Elissa, and burst out laughing. Neither Elissa or Aedan joined in, the latter of whom looked deeply embarrassed. Alistair noticed in the span of a few seconds, and between laughs, said, "Wait, you're serious?"

"Anora's not ugly, Alistair," Elissa said, snorting a laugh. "She's very pretty."

"And you—" Alistair pointed at Aedan, who was staring at his feet. "This is Leliana-level gossip, Elissa."

She smirked faintly at the bard's name. "It gets _juicier._ "

"You can stop talking now," Aedan said.

"No, continue," Alistair said, still laughing.

"I used to joke with Fergus that if Anora wasn't stuck with Cailan, her and Aedan would've been wed the moment they came of age."

He whistled. "That's..." Alistair shook his head. "That's a scandal right there, Aedan."

Elissa had been trying, _hard,_ to embarrass him, and it seemed to have succeeded. It wasn't something they often talked about, let alone thought about—for Elissa, anyway. The few times she'd brought it up, Aedan had changed the subject almost immediately, like he was saddened by it.

Elissa had only met Anora once, and Cailan twice, so neither of them had ever made an impression on her, much like she was sure she didn't make one on them. Aedan, however, had. He'd grown up with them; at one point, the three of them were Ferelden's future. Ferelden's future king, queen, and the favorite child of the Couslands. Aedan had been set to inherit Highever _instead_ of Fergus. He was set to be their most powerful ally. It had almost been a point to raise the three of them as close together as possible.

Unfortunately, Elissa was a mage, and as soon as that was apparent, their father retreated from court, and took Aedan with him out of fear he too would be a mage. Whatever Aedan had with Anora all those years ago was effectively nothing now, but it just might be enough that if they _did_ marry, it wouldn't cause a constant power struggle.

"It doesn't matter," Aedan said as he got to his feet. "It's likely Anora would rather keep the throne for herself than share it, and if that's what it comes to, then so be it."


	25. Chapter 25

Only once had Elissa dreamt of darkspawn, but the last two nights, it was all she had seen. Shrieks, genlocks, hurlocks, ogres, even the Archdemon, once, briefly, before she was roused for her watch shift. She had never been so grateful to be woken.

The Archdemon looked nothing like the high dragon they'd defeated at the temple. She had thought that thing was impossibly large, but the Archdemon looked bigger. Fangs curled out of its lips and its eyes... She _swore_ it looked right at her. It looked right through her soul, chilled her to her core, and _she had been dreaming._

Elissa shuddered at the very thought of it.

For whatever it was worth, Aedan and Alistair's sleeping seemed to be equally disturbed. Breakfast was their time to report to each other on the nightmares. Theirs were just as horrifying as her own.

She was not excited to see darkspawn.

They hadn't seen any since leaving Orzammar, something their newest companion, a drunk named Oghren, said was due to all the recent expeditions his people had been making. It would be unlikely they saw many until they passed through the Dead Trenches, where the Legion of the Dead were currently holed up. He hadn't made it clear, but to Elissa, it sounded like they were trapped, and not camped there.

Regardless, Aedan kept them in a formation as they explored. He and Alistair were at the front, with Sten behind, followed by Wynne, then Morrigan, Leliana, and Zevran. As usual, Elissa brought up the rear with the dwarf, who seemed more content to belch and drink than talk.

Elissa was perfectly okay with that, but she didn't see the logic in keeping their supposed guide in the back.

They would have to go to the Trenches no matter what—it was said that was the direction of the Anvil of the Void, so Paragon Branka would've likely gone that way, and that was who they were looking for.

She took a drink out of her waterskin. It was almost empty, and that was with her rationing out how much she drank. They hadn't even reached Caridin's Cross yet, and despite Oghren's earlier assurances that they would today, Elissa was still nervous about their water and food supply. She wasn't sure what the others had brought, but she knew she'd likely have to share if they were going to get through this.

Past Sten's broad form, it was difficult to see Aedan, but everyone else halted, so she pushed her way up to his side. As she went, chills tingled down her spine and her mouth went dry.

Darkspawn.

"You feel it too?" Aedan asked.

Both her and Alistair nodded, and Elissa fell back to her place with Oghren before they continued.

The last time they'd seen any darkspawn of real number, Elissa had her ass handed to her. Aedan and Leliana had both saved her life, and she was determined to not fuck around this time. She was a Grey Warden and they were darkspawn. She was better than that.

Just in case, Elissa loosened her sword in its scabbard. If they were close enough to know there were darkspawn about, the darkspawn would know they were here too. It was only a matter of time before they'd come and investigate. Elissa just hoped she was ready to rely entirely on her sword. No blocking arrows now.

She edged away from Oghren and the rest of the group to walk closer to the pillars and braziers along the walls. How they were still lit, she didn't know. Another marvel of dwarven engineering, no doubt. It was a pity they were reduced to a few isolated cities. Dwarves were magnificent engineers, architects, smiths. If the job existed, dwarves probably excelled at it.

Hell, if she actually remembered to force a stop at the Circle, she didn't doubt Dagna would be better at scholarly work than an actual mage. If they accepted her. The First Enchanter owed them, so she hadn't expected him to say no.

Why the hell a dwarf would want to study magic still eluded her.

She turned to rejoin the group, but...what was that noise?

Elissa looked back over her shoulder, towards the pillar she'd just walked past. It was strangely dark behind it. As weird as it sounded, they hadn't once been left without light since entering the Deep Roads. Even when they had to go around collapsed sections and through darkspawn tunnels, they were well lit.

So what was causing the shadow?

She smelled the darkspawn before she saw it. Screams echoed through the walls and fire erupted in front of the path and ahead of her, effectively cutting her off from the rest of the party and trapping them.

It was a trap.

A genlock sprang from the shadow, brandishing two wicked looking daggers. It hissed as she drew her sword. Maker, it was so ugly, and she remembered immediately why she hated the darkspawn so much.

It came at her in a blur, daggers spinning and twirling, and it was a wonder that she managed to fend off its attacks without her shield. As it thrust for her belly, Elissa stepped to the side and used her momentum to cut through its throat. Not a second later, the head rolled from its shoulders, and the beast collapsed.

Through the flames, Elissa could see and hear the others fighting. She couldn't reach them. She didn't know how.

And there it was—the knowledge and ability flowing through her veins at the behest of the spirit. It showed her in less than a second, helped her execute the spell just as quick. Frost dripped from her hand as it shot through the fire, erupting in a flash. She flinched, as did the darkspawn and her surrounding companions.

Aedan's voice. "Find the emissary!"

She couldn't react to him fast enough. Two hurlocks disengaged from Oghren's axe to attack her. They carried similar swords to the genlock's daggers, but they were longer, sharper.

Maker, did they stink. Smelled like rotten fish, eggs, and death, all rolled into one disgusting package.

Elissa rolled to the side to dodge the first swipe, and answered back with a thrust of her own. It managed to connect with a shield, but as soon as her sword bounced off it, it came round and collided with her chest.

Winded, she staggered back to regain her bearings. Without her shield, she would have to be the one initiating blows, and she hadn't been ready for that.

She steeled herself as she came to that realization. The hurlocks didn't give her much time to think—both were on her in a flash, swords clattering off hers. The leather in her armor creaked as it was strained for the first time, its first real taste of battle, and Elissa had to force a lot more than she should have. The leather caps on her shoulders, they were the hardest to deal with.

The darkspawn fell back for a brief second, regrouping, and then came forward _again,_ one intending to cleave her in half from top to bottom, while the other went for the same result, but from the ribs. She caught the one's hand in her own, holding its sword up in the air as she smacked the other aside. As it reeled, she twisted a wrist, and stabbed it through the heart. The second crumpled under a cut across the chest.

The flames fell back into the stone rather unceremoniously. Alistair was in the process of cutting down a hurlock, battering its staff aside before driving his sword through its gut. He deflected an arrow from a rogue further down the road, but it was answered back by a bolt of lightning from Morrigan.

At least they protected each other where it mattered, Elissa supposed.

She doubled over, still winded from the blow to her chest, while the others finished the darkspawn off. There hadn't been many, but there were enough to give them pause for a few minutes.

"Huh," Oghren grumbled. He was already taking a swig from his flask. "Maybe you are a Grey Warden."

She just looked at him, dumbstruck, and said, "Did you think I was lying?"

He grunted. "Never know with them surfacers."

"Yes, I'm just wearing this for fun," Elissa retorted, gesturing to herself.

He looked at her suspiciously, _hrumphed_ one more time, and then wandered off to recuperate alone. Elissa hunched back over, lungs heaving, and sat solidly on the ground. A groan escaped her lips as fatigue seeped through her muscles.

It was that spell. She'd never done anything like that before.

Someone sat beside her just as she toppled backwards. A nap would be good. Cracking an eye open, Elissa recognized Leliana, and she grunted a greeting.

"Here," Leliana said.

She was offering the same mixture she'd offered once before. It was a lyrium potion, but then, where did she get it? Wynne? Morrigan?

Almost as if she was reading her mind, Leliana said, "I didn't think you would come prepared. I bought a few before we left."

Elissa forced herself upright. These things were gross, weren't they? She vaguely recalled it tasting like absolute ass, but she took the vial anyway.

"Thanks," Elissa managed once she'd swallowed a mouthful. It burned a bit as it went down her throat and she grimaced. "Just as disgusting as ever."

"Have you ever done anything like that before?" Leliana asked quietly. Elissa just shook her head and got to her feet. She helped the bard up as well. When Elissa went to return the potion, Leliana looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

Elissa frowned. "Keep mothering me, maybe."

That elicited a giggle, but Leliana left her there, quickly falling into her position in the line. Once Elissa was in hers, they kept moving. She tucked the small gift into a pouch on her hip. There wasn't much of anything in there anyway, save some linen.

She wiped down her sword with a dirty scrap as they walked. The black blood stained everything it touched—a few drops had gotten on her jacket, and she knew they would be there forever. Even metal, if it wasn't cleaned immediately, would blacken from the darkspawn blood. The Blight destroyed everything it came into contact with, swords and armor included.

It was difficult to clean while she walked, but it had been a short fight and she had the opportunity to wipe the blade off as soon as it was over. All the blood came off after a few strokes, and she stared at the runes again briefly. She wondered what they could be. Old enchantments were possible, but blessings and vows were more likely. Their family hadn't always been as prominent as it had been as of late, and this sword had been through most of those times. Whoever had this crafted likely couldn't afford enchantments.

That was mildly disappointing, but then, she couldn't either, so who was she to complain? Maybe someday, after the Blight was over and she actually had some coin saved up.

They ran into another pack of darkspawn at what Oghren promised was Caridin's Cross. They'd built structures here, small ones, and campfires blazed lazily near tents. It was at that point Elissa realized this wasn't a darkspawn camp, but one that belonged to dwarves, and Oghren and Aedan both seemed to pick up on it as well.

The men deduced it wasn't old enough to have been Branka's, but it still belonged to someone. Their bodies were nowhere to be found. Morrigan suggested they had likely been dragged off to be eaten or turned into darkspawn themselves, and Elissa felt her stomach roil at the thought.

Being eaten alive or turned into darkspawn didn't sound like very good ways to go. She much preferred the idea of templars hunting her down and killing her to that.

Aedan announced they'd be spending the night here, so she found a spot that wasn't covered in darkspawn muck, and settled down for a long night. Leliana joined her after a while, offering water of her own, but Elissa waved it aside. She wouldn't feel right taking something like that away from her, and instead drank her own. She had maybe another two mouthfuls in her wineskin.

Elissa in turn offered some of her jerky. Leliana rejected her offer, too, and so they sat.

"This is the worst," Elissa said.

Leliana was drawing absentmindedly in the dirt with an arrow. "On that, we can agree."

Elissa was content to watch her doodle for a while. There didn't seem to be anything in particular she was drawing, just entertaining herself. The scratching of the arrowhead on the stone was irritating, but it was soothing otherwise. It was just enough of a distraction that Elissa's mind could go blank.

Probably a good thing, too. Every time it got the chance now, that spirit would try and communicate. It made Elissa uncomfortable, and she had to try harder than she liked to make sure her thoughts and feelings were her own. The more she failed, the braver it got, and the more of herself she lost.

Just now, when the spirit had practically forced her to cast a spell, it made her head ache. It was muddled by the lyrium potion, but she knew it would wear off quickly. If _she_ couldn't cast a spell like that naturally, why would it force it if it knew it would cause her physical pain?

Because it wanted to keep her friends safe, too, so she was happy.

Elissa swallowed deeply. Not her. That wasn't her. It was that thing, explaining itself. She was torn between trusting it had her best interests at heart and fearing what it was doing to her. It kept her safe, yes, but she was losing herself in it.

She put her head between her knees and groaned loudly. This entire situation made her head hurt. Everything these days made her head hurt, but this was definitely not helping.

There had to be a way to reverse this like they did with Connor, or a way for her to protect who she was from who the spirit was. There had to be something. Someone must've seen this before. There must be a solution.

Leliana's hand ran up and down her back briefly. It made her shudder. They hadn't been able to do much of anything since Redcliffe, talking included, and it _hurt._ One of the few good things to come of this mess, and Elissa was stuck hiding it.

Leliana seemed to respect Elissa's want for privacy, though she said she didn't mind if people knew. If Elissa wanted to tell Aedan, she was free to, but she didn't think there was a need for it. They both had a pretty good idea of what the other was feeling. Whether or not that had something to do with them being twins was anyone's guess. It was likely Aedan knew about them, or suspected something.

Everyone else, though, Elissa didn't want them sticking their noses into her life. Not even Alistair, and she thought they had been getting on rather well lately.

"Are you all right?"

Elissa straightened and forced a weak smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

She knew Leliana saw right through her lie, but she thanked the Maker that she had the grace to not pry.


	26. Chapter 26

The air reeked of death. That smell would hang around for weeks after a battle of any capacity, but this, it was something else. It was the worst thing Elissa had ever experienced. Her eyes watered and her throat burned, and she had to pull her scarf up over her face.

What had caused the stench, though, was anyone's guess. Darkspawn, deepstalkers, more spiders, perhaps? There were dead dwarves nearby, a lot of them, and while Elissa didn't _want_ to run into whatever killed them, she was sure they would anyway. That was how their luck had been since entering the Deep Roads. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong.

Food had run out the day before. Even her store of jerky strips was depleted, and Elissa kept that regularly stocked. Then again, the opportunity hadn't exactly been present when they were miles underground, far from any sort of civilization.

They'd been reduced to hunting nugs and the deepstalkers. Elissa saw them once, and she immediately hated the little fucks. Their teeth were sharp and their tails were strong. She didn't think they'd actually be responsible for killing anyone or anything—except for nugs—but they sure were annoying.

The water was gone just as quickly. She was parched, and unlike the food, it didn't look like they were going to have a substitute for that. If they didn't find some sort of river or stream, not even turning back would save them.

She dreaded that the most. They'd come so far. If they died now, to _dehydration_ , she would never forgive herself.

Then again, if they died, she wouldn't have that regret for long.

Despite their best efforts, they were failing in their quest. This was it, wasn't it? They were going to die. Not because of darkspawn, not Loghain, not some group of bandits they ran into, or an abomination, or a werewolf, or some freaky spirit, but because they didn't have water.

For a while, Elissa had tried to convince herself swallowing her own spit would help, but then her mouth dried out, and she was just left to suffer with the rest of them.

So when they stumbled upon the bodies of the dwarves, Elissa was eager to ransack them for any supplies. There was no guilt, no hesitation, no thought. The bodies were fresh, only a few hours old. They would likely have food and water on them. If she could've cried, she would have.

So lost was she in her desire for _anything_ to quench this insatiable thirst that she didn't even recognize the familiar presence of darkspawn nearby. Aedan had to grab her by the shoulder and wheel her around, and even then, she was confused. Nothing else mattered. This could literally be the thing standing between life and death for her, for him, for everyone, and he was worried about darkspawn?

And then she felt it, and her heart dropped into her stomach.

It wasn't just darkspawn. It was _all_ of them. She could feel them there, far away, but in the same cavern as the bodies. Not close enough to have been the source of their demise, but definitely there.

Aedan held up a hand for the others and released her, eyes begging her to stay where she was standing. Once he decided Elissa didn't plan on moving, he crept forward a few feet, sticking close to the mouth of the cave. They were on some large balcony—just past the bodies was a stone bridge. If Elissa wasn't so disgusted by the sight flying over it, she might've thought it was a beautiful work of dwarven architecture.

But it was difficult to look anywhere other than the dragon sailing into view. It was larger than the high dragon they'd already defeated. Its scales were blacker than her nightmares could convey, and its eyes all the more terrifying.

That was it. The Archdemon, only a spear's throw away. They could expose themselves now, fight it without the horde at its back. All those darkspawn, and they were too far away to help their master.

If they killed it now, they could die down here knowing the Blight was defeated.

Elissa took another step forward, unsure of when she'd gotten next to her brother, but again, he stopped her, cutting her off with an arm.

"Don't," he whispered. "I know what you're thinking. Don't."

"Aedan—"

"Do you really think any of us are in the state to fight a dragon?" he hissed. "We barely killed the one at the temple, and this one's bigger and smarter. We'd die trying."

She clenched her jaw, looked back at the others. Most of their eyes were on her and Aedan, and all of them looked equally exhausted, even Sten and Morrigan, who normally didn't let such things become a visible problem.

Elissa looked back to Aedan. "There's no darkspawn to protect it."

"I'd rather fight the Archdemon with its buddies than fight it now, unequipped and starving." By now, it was long gone, having flown so far down the path she could barely see it, but there had to be a way. If they could feel it, it could feel them. There would be some way to draw it back here.

"You're smarter than this, Elissa," Aedan said. She hadn't realized he was holding her forearm. "This is not the time."

She snatched her arm back. "Fine."

"There are plenty of darkspawn between us and our goal. If you're that set on killing something, kill them."

Elissa just grunted.

Aedan stepped cautiously out into the open. A few hesitant steps later, he waved the all clear, and the rest of the party followed. Elissa didn't stop to admire their surroundings whatsoever—she was immediately searching the dwarves. Oghren followed, using his axe to roll one of the men over.

"Poor sods," Alistair mumbled. "This feels wrong."

She found a flask in a pouch. Her hands had barely closed around it when she felt the familiar weight of a liquid, and she had to contain her excitement.

"Legion of the Dead," Oghren commented.

"Probably the scouts Kardol spoke of," Aedan surmised.

Elissa pulled the flask free, a triumphant grin spreading across her face, and she chucked it to her brother. He opened it, sniffed the contents, and gave a nod. Her and Oghren resumed searching while the others stood watch. Below, Elissa thought she felt the distant rumble of footsteps. A quick glance across the bridge told her it was just a few darkspawn and an ogre. That had to be the source.

Her and Oghren's efforts turned up varying stores of drinks—either alcohol or water, but Elissa didn't particularly care which. This would get them through another few days, and ideally up to the end of their trail on Branka. The only fountain they had found had been the day after they left Orzammar, but Elissa couldn't even remember how long they'd been down here, so it wouldn't do them much good.

Water had never tasted _so good._ Not after a fight, not after running around the beaches with Aedan in the summer, nothing. This was a whole different level, and when the liquid hit her lips, they cracked painfully. Her throat ached, begged for more, and she obliged. It was a foolish indulgence, but Maker did she need it. She could go back to rationing her water supply after she was satisfied. Elissa was careful to leave the skin half full at the very least, though.

Everyone else was in a similar position as she was—drinking as much as they dared. On the surface, it was difficult to run out of water. Ferelden was conveniently built around bodies of water, so even if they ran out, there was always a town or village nearby, or a river. She hadn't realized how lucky they were to have that small luxury.

Maker, she was so exhausted and so burnt out. She didn't know how they were going to do this.

"Aedan?" Alistair called. He was standing by the bridge, leaning over the balustrade and looking down below. "You might want to see this."

Briefly, their eyes met, and she got to her feet to join the two of them. Elissa didn't honestly know what she expected, but when she looked down, the sight of all those darkspawn made her stomach sink. So many torches bobbing steadily along. She knew that rumbling they were feeling wasn't the lone ogre on the other side of the cavern—it was the entire horde, and wherever they were going, so was the Archdemon.

The surface. Where else would they be marching?

She swallowed deeply and stepped back, but Aedan and Alistair were still staring, expressions unreadable. Slowly, the others joined them in their stupor, just as numb and in shock as the three of the Wardens.

"How the hell are we going to defeat that?" Alistair whispered.

Aedan straightened. Elissa knew that face, that stance. She'd seen it once. When they were fleeing Highever and Duncan was giving their parents the condition of his rescue. Grim determination, sadness, fear. It was all there, and he was trying so hard to hide it.

"We'll have our own army," Aedan said resolutely.

"I...I don't..."

"We'll defeat them," Aedan said. His tone was stern. "We have to."

Elissa didn't know what she'd do if they didn't.

The group lingered for a few minutes, watching the endless sea of torches march onwards, until Aedan forced them to continue. They couldn't rest here no matter how desperately they wanted to. There were too many darkspawn nearby, and Elissa had a feeling they were too close to their destination to let up now. She would do everything in her power to get them through this as she was sure everyone else would.

The darkspawn waiting for them didn't prove easy to defeat. Perhaps it was their dehydration and exhaustion, perhaps it was the darkspawn actually being better than them, or maybe a mix of both. Elissa struggled to out-duel one hurlock while Aedan and Alistair tried to take on the ogre. Sten was the biggest target, however, as he was the only one making any headway against the creatures. Three of the shrieks were surrounding him, and even though she was the closest, she couldn't disengage to help.

Her hurlock barrelled at her, mace flying wildly, and she parried. The weight behind its attack jarred her, sent vibrations up and down her arms. Elissa backpedaled to regain her composure, but it kept coming. Every attack, every ounce of pressure was just too much to handle.

How she managed to disarm it, Elissa didn't know. Its blood was covering her sword, its mace was gone, and she practically had it dead to rights. With the point of her blade resting on its collarbone, she stepped in and drove the sword through its chest, but not before it managed to wriggle a dagger free.

Next thing she knew, that dagger was in her ribs. Stars exploded behind her eyelids and she staggered back. The hurlock crumpled at her feet. It took all of her willpower to remain standing, to pull the twisted black blade out of her side. She ripped her scarf off and stuffed it against the hole in her side.

The ground shook under their feet as the ogre slammed its massive fists into the stone. One massive sweep of its arm, and Aedan and Alistair were both uprooted and sent flying into the walls. It lowered itself to the floor and rushed forwards. Everyone, darkspawn included, leapt out of the monster's way.

Sten was not fast enough. The shrieks exploded in a puff, disappearing back into the shadows, leaving the qunari to stare down the ogre. It couldn't keep the charge up for long, so as it reached him, Sten spun out of the way and pivoted. That greatsword of his came up, cutting through the flesh of its throat, and even though he'd felled the beast, its momentum carried him forward.

A scream tore her back to her own problems—the shrieks Sten had been fighting had refocused on her.

"Get down!"

Elissa didn't need to be told twice. She fell to her knees and not a moment later, a wave of fire flowed over her head. It swallowed to shrieks whole, setting them alight as they cried out and clawed at their clothes.

She scuttled back across the tiles, sword still pointed at the bastards, before climbing to her feet.

"You are most welcome," came Morrigan's dry comment.

Elissa looked back at the witch, at the smoldering remains of the shrieks. Hand still pressed to her side, Elissa staggered a few steps, and then fell to her knees again.

Maker, did it _hurt._ When did breathing become so difficult?

She coughed, tasted and spat out blood. Huh. That wasn't a good sign.

Her vision was swimming, pivoting and turning and going all sorts of impossible directions. She blinked, tried to force it to calm, even went so far as holding her breath, but nothing worked. When she tried to retake the air she wasted, she found herself unable to.

Oh no.

Warmth spread throughout her limbs. From head to toe, Elissa felt like she was back in the earlier stages of the Deep Roads, where they were surrounded by fire and a suffocating atmosphere. Here, in the caves and the Dead Trenches, it was cold and lifeless, but not her, and not right now.

Her head was still spinning. She sat up—Elissa didn't even remember falling over—and there was nothing there. She could breathe. There was no ache in her side. She felt whole again. Her fingers prodded at the tear in her jacket, but they found solid skin, as if nothing had ever happened.

She looked up, to the others, but Morrigan was still turning around, as if she'd only just insulted Elissa's lack of manners. Wynne hadn't even retrieved whatever it was she was searching her bag for, and Alistair and Aedan were still returning from their brief stint across the balcony. Zevran was still picking up his fallen dagger, Oghren was still putting the cloth he used to clean his axe away. Sten was in the middle of readjusting himself and Leliana was crouched over a body with a pair of her arrows in it.

Everything instantly returned to its normal pace. Voices could be heard as her party members spoke and muttered about various things, and a pair of amber eyes resettled on her.

Thankfully, the witch didn't make another remark, and instead opted for storming off to be alone.

Elissa gulped as the warmth subsided. She hadn't realized it was still there, but as it became weaker, a strange feeling of hopelessness was left behind.

Without a second thought, Elissa finally understood what kind of spirit was possessing her.


	27. Chapter 27

This was no normal dream.

She was rapidly learning that hers were rather unnatural for both mages and Grey Wardens, but even for her, this was different. She had expected darkspawn, memories that weren't her own, or even nightmares about the evils they'd learned Branka committed.

But no, she found herself standing in the Fade. Not in the same way someone would experience their dreams, but it felt like herself. She felt fully conscious, completely aware, totally in control. She wasn't sleeping despite having fallen asleep. This was real.

Elissa swallowed, unsettled. What was it Wynne had called her? A dreamer? Had she entered the Fade without intending to?

She recognized this place, wherever she was. Cobblestones jutted out from dead grass, consumed by the passing of time, and crumbled spires towered still far overhead. Impossibly curved and yet sharp arches were before her—a clear path, one that beckoned her forward, but she hesitated.

From her limited knowledge, Elissa didn't think that urge was wise to act upon. She knew nothing of demons, only that they would try their hardest to possess any mage they happened upon.

Would that even affect her, though? Wasn't she already possessed?

It wasn't very reassuring, but something inside her propelled her feet forward. Whispers of conversation reached her ears, just conveniently out of reach. The voices were familiar, comforting, reminded her of a home she couldn't recall, of family she didn't recognize.

A deep sadness formed in her belly, and then she understood. This wasn't her home, her friends, or her family. It was the spirit's, from a life it couldn't remember. The feeling it gave, it didn't believe it was truly their own past, but someone else it had once tried to protect like it was doing with her.

She couldn't place the accent to the voices, or the style to the architecture. Neither could the spirit, and that only made them both sadder. It felt it should know, should understand and remember, and it couldn't—the regret there seeped over into her own feelings. She felt like _she_ should know these things, like it was her responsibility. She felt like these faceless elves around her were hers to protect and remember, and she couldn't.

Elves.

Elissa gulped again and paused. These were elven voices, elven shapes surrounding the dilapidated path. These were not her things to see or hear, her memories to possess, and yet here she was, holding them so close and yet so far out of reach. They were ancient, long forgotten glimpses of the past, and every person she saw, she forgot as soon as she passed.

They were not hers, but Elissa felt so profoundly connected she couldn't help feeling like she should be an exception. This life she was seeing felt like part of her own.

"What is this?" she wondered aloud.

"It is you."

Her heart stopped beating, here and out in the real world. She was so distantly aware of her body, resting on a too-thin blanket spread out on cold stone.

When she turned, she found herself in the great hall at Highever. Deep red and gold carpets adorned the floor, statues of old teyrns and teyrnas adorned small alcoves sculpted into the walls, bookshelves everywhere, and one large, roaring fireplace at the far end of the hall.

"This is me."

Beside her, she felt...something. A presence not entirely unfamiliar, but unique. It was alien in its own way, but it was her.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"I do not want to be at odds with you," the spirit said. "I have done everything in my power to keep you safe."

Elissa tried to turn, to look at it, but when she did, she was aware of it moving. "You almost killed my brother and my friend. Why should I _not_ be at odds with you?"

When it spoke again, it sounded far away. "I have been with you since childhood and I have guarded many like you before. Do you not think that perhaps your emotions would affect me as I affect you?"

She frowned, again turned towards the spirit, and again found it elsewhere. "Isn't that how spirits become demons?"

"I am no demon," the voice hissed. The venom there was obvious, and what was once far away was now only inches from her face, still invisible.

Fear pooled in Elissa's belly. "Then what are you?"

"I am what you have already decided upon," it said. "Mortals have such thin understandings of spirits—you would think us all mindless beings worried about how _honorable_ or _wise_ we were."

"So you're a spirit of hope?"

"I find myself drawn to mortals in need of aid," it said. "You, a flailing babe with no knowledge of how the world works, and yet in possession of the greatest powers your kind know of."

"I'm not—"

"You are."

She bristled, but something told Elissa it would be stupid to try and piss the spirit off. Morrigan had told her as much, and it would be wise to remember it. "If you could talk all this time, why haven't you?"

It didn't answer. A heavy silence hung between them and silence crept over the whispers. Eventually, the only thing Elissa could hear was her own thoughts, and she wondered if it left her here. According to Morrigan, she was _supposed_ to be able to enter the Fade at will, but she hadn't done so. Perhaps this spirit of hope had dragged her here to show her something, as it had probably tried the first time.

Elissa just didn't understand why. She didn't know what it was trying to show her. She didn't know the first thing about magic, much less spirits, and for some reason, this thing had chosen her for whatever its purpose was.

Maybe she was the clueless idiot it thought of her as.

"Why me?" she asked.

This time, it answered.

"I didn't choose you," it said. "You chose me."

Elissa frowned. "How?"

"Many of what you call 'dreamers' do not survive for long," it said. "Demons, curious and weak spirits call out to your kind, and few can resist. I try to help, to instill a feeling of safety, but..." It paused, voice heavy and filled with emotion it shouldn't have. "None have sought me out like you did."

Elissa almost laughed as she shook her head. "I didn't _look_ for you. I didn't want any of this."

"Didn't you?" it demanded. "The youngest of three siblings, the only girl, so desperate to be as strong and brave as your brothers, to prove needlessly prove yourself to your father?" Its voice was closer now. If it was a person, Elissa would be able to feel its breath on her neck. "You had _visions_ as a child, a magical gift few could even dream of, and you still did not feel equal to them. You still needed to be better, be stronger, and when I heard your plea for help, I came."

She swallowed past a lump in her throat. That didn't make sense. She couldn't have known she was a mage until she cast her first spell, so there was no way she could've looked for this thing.

"It was strange to me to see a mortal such as yourself so...hopeless. It was a curiosity."

Elissa didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to even entertain the idea that she did this to herself, consciously or not. She didn't want to pretend that she hadn't, either.

"Why can't I see you?"

"I am stranded," it said. "Ages ago, a man I cannot recall the name of summoned me, and I have been outside of the Fade ever since. Very few mortals interest me, but when you are called..." It trailed off. "There is no choice for my kind. Choice leads to disaster, but so does a summons. I have not met many who have remained pure afterwards."

"Can't you just cross the Veil?"

"It is not that easy. I have been searching for a way home since I was brought into your world."

"But it's possible?"

The lack of a response gave her hope to be rid of this mess. Perhaps there was a mage somewhere, or someone, who knew just enough about possession to free her.

"I cannot come here without you, and you cannot leave without my aid."

"But I have more questions."

"No, we must go back. Your companions are eager to return to the surface and so am I."

* * *

Knowing that the spirit could actually acknowledge her in its own way made the march back to Orzammar all the more unsettling. Every interaction Elissa had, it was there, watching, with its own opinions and thoughts.

Part of her had always known it was a constant presence, but this was just really hitting it home for her. It made her wonder if withdrawing in herself would be better. Rather than have feelings and thoughts that weren't hers, Elissa would've preferred closing off everyone again, and saving herself the confusion.

It had said it had been with her since she was a child. What if she didn't feel the way she did about anything, and all those feelings and her personality belonged to the spirit?

This needed to be fixed. Elissa couldn't go back to the angry ball of hate she'd grown up as. It was exhausting feeling so spiteful all the time. It was exhausting having no conversations of substance with Aedan, though they still didn't really have those. All they spoke of was the Blight and darkspawn. Every waking minute of their lives, his moreso than hers, they had to worry about the monsters.

Elissa was more determined now than ever—she was going to survive this Blight. She was going to rid herself of this spirit and she was going to forget she'd ever been able to use magic. She was going to forget about her dreams, forget the spirit, forget everything.

She just wanted to be Elissa, but the problem was, she didn't know who Elissa was. She wasn't the hateful person she'd been months ago, but she wasn't...this person, either. Who was she?

That thing inside her, she swore it pitied her. How depressing must it be to sense this power in a person, and then find them to be some idiot like her? It said it protected her, so how annoying must it have been to protect a mage that didn't know how to use magic? How pathetic was it to have found a dreamer, someone with such a strong connection to the Fade and to magic, only to have them be completely clueless?

She would never be like Morrigan or Wynne, so in-tune with themselves and their powers to be confident in them. She would never be like Aedan or Fergus, easily the best swordsmen to field a battle.

_Why am I trying to be something I'm not?_

Elissa was no mage. She was no warrior. She could be so much more if she would just let herself, but the very idea of it was terrifying. This spirit could teach her any spell she might ever need in the blink of an eye. Its very existence allowed her to use a forgotten magic without even trying, and Elissa only wanted to be like Aedan or Morrigan?

She was being narrow-minded. She could be capable of so much. Those elves she'd seen in the Fade, with all their whispers and clamoring, had been doing things. Using magic, swords, shields, spears. They were all things the spirit had seen, been a part of, and if it knew of it, she did.

They were one and the same. When it was showing her the elves, it had said it was showing her herself. It had shown her everything she could be, everything she could know, and she had been too confused and nervous to understand. Every mage it had protected, it retained the knowledge it could. It knew of magics the Circle couldn't even dream of. When it spoke of her visions, it hadn't even remotely seemed surprised, like they should've been commonplace.

That was what Elissa was ignoring. A vast wealth of knowledge and experience, just because she was afraid of a spirit.

But it was just a spirit, and not a demon. If she was careful, what harm could come of listening to it?


	28. Chapter 28

Faceplanting on her mattress had been the best feeling of Elissa's life.

It wasn't quite as nice as the ones she'd grown up on, or the ones Arl Eamon let them borrow at Redcliffe, but Maker, this was a close third. Perhaps it was the sleeping on rocks that had done it, or the exhaustion. It was probably both, but Elissa didn't care. It felt so good to just be at peace.

Aedan had promised the day before they would leave. They needed that much, at the very least. It wouldn't do much in the grand scheme of things, but it would give them an opportunity to relax before marching south, towards the darkspawn horde.

Elissa briefly wondered how far north the darkspawn had made it. When they'd fled Ostagar and Flemeth's hut all those months ago, the horde had been right on their heels. They hadn't really even stopped in Lothering—a few essentials had been bought, Leliana had joined them, and Sten had been freed. It had taken maybe two hours before they were heading north again.

Even with the horde still in the Wilds, darkspawn had surrounded Lothering. Random packs just roaming, looking for people to kill. Those first few days had been the worst of it. They'd gained some ground when Lothering was inevitably consumed, but they'd lost it just as quick by helping the Dalish.

How they managed to avoid the darkspawn so efficiently was a blessing. Before entering the Deep Roads, it had been at least a month since they'd last run into the creatures. Elissa wasn't foolish enough to believe that luck would continue to last. They'd wasted what was probably another month just getting here and gaining the dwarves' support. The darkspawn would've spread even further. She would be more surprised to hear the Bannorn hadn't seen the bulk of the horde yet than to hear it hadn't.

From here, Elissa knew they would be overwhelmed. There would be no more breaks, no more rest. They needed Ferelden's support before they could actually fight back, but that battle and the Landsmeet would be something else altogether. There would be people there that knew her, knew Aedan. As far as she knew, Rendon Howe himself would be there, and that alone could be reason enough for it to get ugly.

It would essentially end up as their word against Teyrn Loghain's. The only name in the country to carry more weight than theirs, and he was their enemy.

He'd already attempted to assassinate them once. Elissa didn't doubt another attempt would be made once they were right under his nose. Hopefully Eamon's name and their own would keep them safe, or else they'd really have a problem.

A knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts. It didn't matter what _might_ happen once they'd reached Denerim if they didn't get there. Travelling south would be dangerous, and travelling past Lothering to go north would likely result in some skirmishes with the darkspawn. Worrying about getting there would probably be wiser than worrying about what would happen when they got there.

Elissa forced herself to her feet. She could feel the last few days' exertion everywhere. Her calves ached in a way she didn't even know was possible. Her feet were so sore she didn't know if they'd ever stop hurting. Walking the few feet to the door was painful enough. How the hell was she going to manage walking back to Redcliffe?

None of her was surprised to see Leliana standing on the other side of her door. She would've been equally unsurprised to see Aedan, but she would be lying to herself if she didn't say she preferred Leliana. Much of her time the last few days had been spent with Aedan and Alistair, discussing the nightmares they'd been having. Very little of it had been with Leliana. It was such a stark contrast to the way she'd spent her time since Lothering that it almost actually hurt.

Leliana practically shoved her back into the small room, kicking the door shut behind her. It was so aggressive Elissa couldn't even really keep up. The next thing she knew, she was on her bed. Leliana shoved her again, pushing her into the blanket as she climbed over her. There was an urgency to her that Elissa didn't understand, but Leliana didn't give her the chance to ask. Every confused question Elissa could've imagined was swallowed in a kiss.

It was thoughtless. Leliana smelled so clean, tasted so good, she couldn't help herself. Elissa didn't think she was nearly as...as _appetizing_ as the bard was, but Leliana didn't seem to care. Her hands were everywhere, running over her ribs, her chest, up into her hair. The way Leliana tugged at it sent shivers down her spine.

She paused in her assault for a brief minute, allowing her forehead to rest on Elissa's. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily, but Elissa found herself wanting Leliana more than she'd ever even considered.

"I missed you too," Elissa teased.

Leliana laughed once as she relaxed into Elissa's arms. "I'm sorry."

Before sliding over, Leliana kissed her cheek, and then made herself comfortable. She ended up in a similar position to the first night they'd slept together—burrowed into Elissa's shoulder.

The first time they'd done this, Leliana had been asleep the instant Elissa had laid next to her, unconsciously worming her way over, but now it was intentional. Elissa had been terrified the first time they'd done this. She hadn't known if Leliana shared similar feelings, or even what these feelings were. She still didn't quite understand. Elissa hadn't ever been with anyone before, man or woman, sexually or otherwise. This was entirely new territory for her. Even looking at Leliana and finding her attractive was strange. When they'd first started traveling together, Elissa wouldn't let herself look at Leliana if those thoughts appeared.

Now she'd just blush and forget how to speak, so it wasn't a much better situation.

But it was good, Elissa had decided. However much Leliana had disliked her when their rocky friendship got off to a start, Elissa trusted her that it was gone. Between this spirit and Leliana, Elissa believed she might actually get her life together and be a functional human being. She still didn't know how to survive on her own very well, but this could be a good start for her.

No, not could. It _would_ be. She was determined of it. Someday she would rid herself of Hope and be able to exist as her own person. Every feeling she had, it would be hers. Every thought would be her own, and there would be no fear of hurting those she cared for.

If lying here with Leliana would be how she spent the remainder of their time in Orzammar, Elissa would be perfectly happy with it. Leliana had put up with her shit for so long that she deserved to just lie here.

"How did we end up like this?" Elissa asked.

Leliana shifted, adjusting herself so she could look Elissa in the eye. That blue would never cease to fascinate her—she could stare into Leliana's eyes forever and Elissa wouldn't fear boredom.

"Like what?"

"Like...this," Elissa explained, gesturing to themselves.

Leliana's eyebrows knit together, and then shrugged. "Does it matter?"

The original question hadn't necessarily been one Elissa meant to say aloud. She didn't know what had changed between them to get them from their quiet dislike of the other to actual friends. Was it really possible faking it enough eventually made it real?

It must've been. Elissa couldn't ever have seen herself befriending an Orlesian. It was bred into every Fereldan to hate their western neighbors. They'd only recently been freed from Orlesian rule, so it was easy for them to hate each other rather deeply. Orlais wasn't happy Ferelden had won its independence, and Ferelden wasn't happy it had had to.

Elissa's parents had fought against Orlais just for Elissa to end up in bed with an Orlesian. It was almost...disappointing, but part of her knew her mother would've loved Leliana. She would've been a feminine influence in Elissa's life she was sorely lacking, that was for sure. Not that Elissa felt she needed that, but her mother undoubtedly did. She always had. She'd been so grateful to have one daughter.

The way Elissa practically threw that back in her face still made her uncomfortable to think about. She knew she deserved it, but it made her squirm nonetheless.

"It's just strange," Elissa admitted. "I always thought I'd end up married off to some man in the middle of nowhere, and now..."

"Now you're in bed with a woman, in the mountains?"

Elissa snorted. "Something like that."

Leliana sat up a bit, frowning. "Does it bother you?"

"No, of course not," Elissa said quickly, sensing that this was exactly how she could undo every good thing to have come from this. "I'm just... I don't know. Forget I said anything. I shouldn't have."

Leliana's expression softened. "What about you and I upsets you?"

She shook her head. "Nothing." She had to force her eyes away from Leliana's. There was no way she would be able to think and look at her. It was hard to think around Leliana to begin with. Everything about her was so damn distracting—the way she spoke, her smile, her laugh, her eyes, that little braid she stubbornly wove into her hair every morning.

"All of it is just so weird," Elissa decided. "I'm not...supposed to like women. I'm supposed to marry some random man I've never met. I'm not supposed to like Orlesians, and I like one. I'm not supposed to be here, but..."

"Are you happy here?"

Elissa swallowed. "Well, yes, but—"

"There doesn't have to be a 'but' every time we talk," Leliana said quietly. "If you're happy, why does it matter?"

"It's just not where I thought I'd be in life."

"Do you think I ever expected to be where I am now?" Leliana asked. "If you asked me ten years ago, I'd have thought I'd be attending more parties and setting fashion trends of my own. I never would have thought I would be in Ferelden of all places, helping the last of the Grey Wardens fight the darkspawn."

Elissa raised an eyebrow. "Not fashion trends with live birds in your hair, right?"

Leliana stared at her for several seconds, as if offended, and only after Elissa began looking concerned did she laugh. "No, no. I have better taste in hair styles."

Elissa made a face. "It looks like your taste is braids." She flicked the tiny thing for emphasis, and then realized her own hair was kept in a braid, albeit a much longer one. "See?"

"I have a love of the simpler things," Leliana deadpanned.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a terrible liar."

Leliana giggled, rolling her eyes, as she sat up again. "You know me so well."

"I like to think so," Elissa said confidently.

Leliana's eyebrows went up, as if surprised, and she said, "Oh? Then what am I thinking about?"

"Right now?"

"Right now."

Elissa gave her a long, hard look, but Leliana was an expert at not giving anything away. As soon as she had asked, she'd schooled her features, and her expression now was as blank as a sheet of paper.

"You got me," Elissa said. "I'm not a mind reader."

Leliana smirked. "I can give you a hint." She sat up further, so their faces were less than an inch apart. Her breath hitched in her throat as anticipation pooled in her belly. Elissa had never noticed that Leliana had freckles before, or maybe she had and she'd just forgotten, but she was getting nervous now and her thoughts were wandering and _sweet Maker_ her lips looked _so soft._

This kiss was so much better than the last, and so much worse. There was no urgency behind it, no hunger. Instead, it was gentle, sweet, loving. Leliana was just so good at this it made Elissa's heart ache. What had she done to be this lucky?

Elissa wished it lasted longer. She always did. Leliana didn't want to push too much, but Elissa could never find a way to ask her to. Every touch left her wanting more, and while Leliana appeared to want the same thing, she didn't try.

Maybe Leliana didn't want that. Elissa had never been with anyone before, so it was entirely possible she was just reading her wrong. She was always relatively clueless. Hell, she'd thought Leliana didn't truly want her like this right up until their first kiss. After all, why would she? Elissa had never given her a reason to like her. How they'd ended up together would always be a mystery.

"I think I'm going to need another hint."

Leliana rolled her eyes again, laughing. "You are _so_ easy to please, Elissa."

"What can I say? I have a love of the simpler things."

Elissa didn't remember when repeating each other had become a joke, but Leliana thought it was as funny as she did, so she wouldn't complain. And if her dumb jokes would get her more kisses, how could she ever find anything to complain about?


	29. Chapter 29

Elissa had never been prouder of Aedan.

The moment they'd returned to Redcliffe, all three treaties acquired, he set to making himself presentable. He had always been the one to embrace their nobility. He was always the face of their family, and oh, did he look like it in Grey Warden armor.

His hadn't needed adjustments like hers had. It fit him like glue. It looked just as good on him, if not better, than it did on Alistair. It was good to see him outfitted with real armor, and not the shit they'd fled Highever in. It was _good_ knowing he was really protected by what he wore, and not at constant risk of being chopped in half.

Before they left, he made a point to actually spend time with her. It would be good for both of them, something she was looking forward to. It was comforting seeing him taking an active interest in grooming himself in a way he hadn't seemed to care for since the Blight began. Most days he'd acquired a beard, one that was shaven only every month or so, and his hair was even less cared for. Watching Leliana cut it all off was strangely fascinating.

After it was back to its normal length, Aedan styled it the way he always had—similar to Alistair's, just shorter. He looked so proud, so strong. Seeing him like that again... Elissa hadn't known what to say. He looked like Aedan again.

She hadn't seen him like that in so long. He looked just like their father. He was even wearing the amulet he'd been given by the ghost at the temple. It sat right in front, hanging just high enough to remain above his chestplate.

Everything they'd been through, every step they made up to this point, was all because of him. He made sure to talk to _every_ member of their party, even Oghren, who'd decided to join them after Branka's passing. He was the glue that kept them together. She'd even spotted him buying a sword as they'd left Orzammar, one Sten now proudly sported on his back. Whatever he'd gotten up to when they were in Denerim, it had been for Zevran. As soon as they got back to the city, he was going to settle both Alistair's and Leliana's personal issues.

He cared about _all_ of them—if they allowed him. He was such a good man and she couldn't be more impressed with him if she tried.

Elissa didn't know how he did it. She could barely put up with Alistair, and that wasn't even anything against him. She just didn't like people, no matter how hard she tried. How Leliana had wiggled her way past that barrier Elissa would never understand.

But Aedan always made time for them. At camp, he was basically making rounds checking in on everyone after supper. He rarely checked on her, personally, and she was okay with it. Even if she wished he would, she understood. He was exhausted and those few minutes he didn't spend with her could be spent resting.

If that was a sacrifice she had to make, it was worth it. He gave so much for them and no one gave anything back. If this was all that could be given, Elissa would give it without hesitation. She would give so much more if only she knew how.

If anyone deserved it, Aedan did.

When she first set eyes on him, she could've cried. He looked as he had before the Blight. Clean shaven, hair only slightly tousled in such a way it was clearly intentional, and such a light in his eyes it was clear why he was the favorite son.

He grinned. "Looks good, right?" When she nodded, Aedan added, "I forgot how nice it felt to be well-kept."

Elissa choked on a laugh. "You pull off the roguishly handsome look pretty well, in your defense."

"I don't think that's for me," he admitted. "It's a wonder what a good haircut will do for your mood."

Aedan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Elissa understood immediately. Shaking her head, Elissa replied, "No, I look better with long hair."

"Still as much of a boring ass as usual, I see." He gestured for her to follow, and she did, falling in beside him. It was strange to walk alongside him instead of behind and at an angle. It wasn't bad. She liked it. She missed being able to just...be siblings. "We haven't really talked much since...well..."

"I honestly can't remember," Elissa admitted.

"Me either."

The walls here felt empty. So many of Eamon's knights, what remained of them, would be accompanying them to Redcliffe, and many had already departed. The Landsmeet had been called—many lords were at Denerim, impatiently awaiting their arrival, and it wouldn't do to not even make some attempt at...whatever word it was he used earlier. Elissa didn't really care what the nobility thought of them, regardless of whether or not she understood why they were important to their cause.

"How're you holding up?" she asked.

He nodded once, sighing. "Eamon does _not_ want to agree to our plan."

She snorted. "Is that all you think about?"

"Well...lately, yes," Aedan said with a shrug. "It's eating away at me."

"What are you afraid of?"

He swallowed deeply, looking away. "I don't know. It feels...wrong. I shouldn't be pushing for this. Anora should be cast aside and I should return to Highever, with Alistair as king. I haven't been raised for any of that and I've never even thought about it."

"Alistair has even less preparation than you do, in that case," Elissa explained. She was growing exasperated with this topic already. If Aedan was that uncomfortable, he should just give into Eamon's wishes, but the fact that he hadn't done so was evidence enough to see he understood her and Alistair's side. As long as she didn't back down, he likely wouldn't, either. "You'll be fine."

"It's terrifying, Elissa," Aedan said. "We're trying to shift the power balance here in a way that has never been tried before. Doesn't that bother you?"

She frowned. "You mean because a different family would take the throne?"

"It's never happened before. Not in Ferelden. What if the banns rebel like they did against Orlais?"

"I highly doubt that'll happen," Elissa said. "You're a popular face. Defeat the Blight, and you'll have people practically kissing the ground you walk on."

Aedan just sighed again, eyes looking desperately around in search of a subject change. Nothing Elissa had said ever comforted him here, and she wasn't surprised. Part of her knew why—he was raised to believe in his king, and in turn, Alistair. It was why he supported Prince Bhelen at Orzammar and it was why this decision was eating him up inside.

That, and she figured he probably was just terrified. Elissa couldn't imagine ruling a teyrnir. A country would be another matter altogether. She was just glad this wasn't something that had to weigh on her shoulders.

Growing up, Elissa had always envied Aedan. In some ways, she'd wished she could _be_ Aedan, but as an adult, Elissa was quickly realizing how decent of a position she was in. She was a Grey Warden, and while that was looking like it wouldn't end up mattering, being a mage would effectively keep her from any status of import for the rest of her life. Templars couldn't touch her, no matter how hard they'd try.

But Aedan? He was just...Aedan, like Alistair was just Alistair, and with the country scrambling for some iota of leadership, eyes would turn to the two of them.

Maybe being a mage wasn't so bad. Maybe being a Grey Warden wasn't, either. The former would keep her away from people, and the latter would keep the people who wanted to imprison her away too. She might actually be able to live her own life when the Blight was over.

Then she remembered she didn't know how to do that and would probably end up following Aedan around like a kicked puppy, so she was back to square one.

"What do you want to do when this is all over with?"

Elissa frowned at the question. "What do you mean?"

Aedan shrugged. "You know. If you could do anything in the world right now, what would it be?"

Her frown deepened as she thought. Elissa hadn't really thought about anything of the sort in...ever, had she? She didn't think very far ahead. She hadn't really ever actually considered they would get this far, let alone actually see the Blight end. Sure, Elissa _thought_ about it often, but she never really expected it to go away. This was just the way life was now.

"You first," Elissa said.

"Hmm," he said, folding his arms behind his back. "I think I'd like to return to Highever."

"Oh?"

Aedan nodded. "I want to give our parents a proper burial. And Fergus and his family, of course, but..." He inhaled deeply, not quite sighing. "For some reason, I don't think Howe gave them that much."

Elissa snorted at the dark humor.

"And then after that... I don't know," he admitted. "If Anora agrees to this stupid idea, I imagine she'll want to get it over with as soon as possible. I know I'd want to. If that's what happens, then... I dunno. I guess I'll stay in Denerim."

"No more adventures for Aedan Cousland?" Elissa asked dramatically.

"No, I've had enough adventures to last me a lifetime," Aedan said, laughing. She returned his grin, but didn't press the matter further. He didn't seem like he wanted to think about it, either, and asked only out of politeness. "Your turn."

"I'd like to sail, I think," Elissa answered. "I'd probably be bad at it, but I'd like to try."

He looked at her quizzically. "You? Sailing?"

"I like the water," she deadpanned. "Yes, Aedan. I'd like to go somewhere."

"Somewhere...not in Ferelden?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. There's not much here for me, anyway, aside from you."

"You could rebuild the Wardens," he suggested.

"Pfft, that seems more up Alistair's alley than my own," Elissa replied. "I don't care about the Wardens. All they're good for is keeping the templars off my back."

"Would you want to learn more about magic?"

"We've both seen those results."

He frowned. "You're right. That's disastrous." Elissa scoffed indignantly and he chuckled. "This just isn't a good place or time to be practicing those kinds of things."

"Agreed."

They fell quiet again, the only sounds permeating the silence was that of their armor rustling and jingling. It suited him so well. He looked so...heroic, and Elissa just looked like some dunce unlucky enough to be put alongside him.

But somehow they were both Grey Wardens, so who was _really_ the unlucky one?

Eventually, the pair made their way out to the courtyard. Alistair was there, beating the stuffing out of a training dummy. He was the only other person outside. It was odd—the last time Elissa was here, people were running around like crazy. Now they were all gone, headed to Denerim. Only a small force remained, and after they left in the morning, the force here would be even smaller.

Elissa wondered if Eamon was comfortable leaving his home so unguarded with darkspawn popping up everywhere. She wondered how long it took him to decide he didn't have a choice.


	30. Chapter 30

Anxiety. Elissa knew it well. She was oftentimes left behind at camp in favor of another party member, left to wonder if _this_ time would be _the_ time. The time Aedan didn't come back, or the time Leliana wouldn't.

And again, here she was, separated from the only two people in the world she cared about, unable to protect them or even see for herself if they were safe.

Why could she prove herself so many times, and yet, still be left behind? What was she doing that wasn't good enough? Why was Aedan still trying to protect her?

If _anyone_ was capable of protecting themselves, it would be her. Maker's sake, she was fucking possessed, and Aedan didn't trust her.

She didn't even care if she went into the Alienage with them. She didn't care if she accompanied them to find Alistair's sister; all she wanted was to be there when Leliana confronted Marjolaine. The woman had framed her for treason, left her for dead in Denerim's jails, and was now trying to assassinate the lot of them.

But Aedan had told her to stay here. For some godforsaken reason, he hadn't wanted her to come. Elissa just wanted to be there, and she couldn't even do that. She didn't even know why she wanted to be there—she just figured...well, it would probably be nice to be there, wouldn't it? Or comforting, or something. Elissa thought if their positions were reversed, she would've wanted Leliana there, not Alistair and Wynne. Who were they, anyway, to be sticking their noses into her business?

_Aedan's making it their business._

Elissa loved her brother, but he could be dense. Or was she the one being dense? Just because Leliana was the only person in their party she talked to, didn't mean Elissa was the only person Leliana talked to. She could've told anyone else about this, and Elissa wouldn't have even thought of it. Who else did she tell?

The jealousy settling in Elissa's mind made her sick.

Leliana was a human being. She was her own person, and she existed before Elissa did, and would probably continue to exist after as well. She lived her life just fine without her, just as Elissa did before they met. And just because Elissa wasn't particularly social didn't mean Leliana couldn't be, but something about the idea of sharing this experience with someone else made Elissa jealous anyway.

And there she was, making everything about herself again.

Elissa sucked in a deep, annoyed breath. She liked to credit herself with becoming a better person, or at least trying to be, but what had changed? She _talked_ a little more? Was that all she thought it took to be a good person? She was jealous because Leliana might've been friends with someone else, and Elissa had the audacity to think she'd improved herself?

It was disgusting.

She still had some unravelling to do. Whatever issues she had managed to work through, there were more, and the thought of it made her want to die. Just thinking of how she acted when she had first joined the Wardens embarrassed Elissa. How she must act now was probably not much better.

How Leliana put up with it, Elissa would never understand. She still, in many ways, acted like a child. This jealousy was a good example. Forgetting she wasn't the only three-dimensional person in their group was another. Turning many conversations into something about herself was the biggest one.

She didn't want to seem so self-centered. She just didn't understand how to think of other people, or act around them, and it was difficult to correct it. It didn't make it right and it wasn't an excuse, but she knew the lack of any real interaction growing up was the main reason behind it. And maybe it was whiny and annoying to always blame her stupidity on it—and essentially, her father—but it was the truth.

The only thing she really needed to accept was it was still her fault for not changing. How long had she been free of that environment, and how long did she let this continue? How long could she keep retreating in on herself before she couldn't fix it?

Leliana didn't deserve to put up with this shit. Elissa was a mess and was not in the state of mind to be supportive of someone else, let alone herself, but holy fuck, would it be more selfish to end it now, after whatever's happened with Marjolaine, or would it be worse to stay with her?

Elissa groaned and fell back in the dirt. Sam lifted his head and whined inquisitively.

"I hate existing," she explained. The mabari just stared at her, head cocked to the side, big brown eyes wide open and focused only on her. "For once in my life, Sam, I just don't want to be a shitty person." He whined again, nudging her hand with his nose, and she sighed. He scooted closer as she rubbed his ears. "I wish my life was as simple as yours."

Overhead, snow-white clouds swirled and mixed with each other, creating rows upon rows of various shapes and sizes. The sun tried desperately to shine through them, but they were so thick. It was strange that in the rest of Ferelden, there were snows up to her knees. Highever never got much snow, and Denerim got even less. It would never stick either, so while Elissa had seen the stuff before, coming down from the mountains had been a shock.

She looked down at Sam, eyes closed, and sighed again. Everything would be so much easier if she was a dog. She wouldn't have anything to worry about. She would just eat, sleep, and repeat everyday, and she would be perfectly happy with that.

Elissa's mind ran blank with boredom. The sounds of the city, all the voices and laughter, the sounds of animals braying, it was all drowned out. She couldn't even smell her dog laying beside her when she finally realized something was wrong, but when she sat up, she wasn't behind Eamon's estate anymore.

As a matter of fact, Elissa didn't know where she was at all. She was confused, dazed like something had hit her in the head. Her eyes were trying to water, but they were so dry they burned, and no matter how many times she blinked no relief came. Her mouth was as equally dry—she tried to call out for help, but she barely managed a cough.

Every muscle in her body ached. Her legs didn't want to, _couldn't,_ support her weight. Her knees buckled, and when she tried to catch herself on her hands, her arms screamed in protest. Her knuckles were bruised, split. She could feel the smoke and wind on her neck, her shoulders, everywhere. Her clothes were torn. It was then Elissa realized the thing suffocating her was her chestplate, dented from some unknown force, and digging into her sternum.

It took so much effort to find the buckles and release them, but oh, that first breath, it was like heaven. The air was heady and smoky, but she could breathe, at the very least.

Her hands shook as she tried to stand again. Confusion swirled through her, mixed with a strangely large amount of desperation. Something had happened. Something had gone wrong, but she could hardly remember what it was.

When her vision came into focus, she saw bodies everywhere. Darkspawn, humans, elves, dwarves. So many dead, and even more fighting. The darkspawn were winning. All of the fights she could see, the beasts were slaughtering them. There were just so many. Too many. For every person Elissa saw, there were three darkspawn.

And there, so very close and so far away, was the Archdemon.

It was grounded and looked every bit as beaten and battered as she felt. Several large holes adorned its ribs and one of its wings was torn nearly in half, and while its eyes were closed, she knew it wasn't dead.

Somehow she knew. She knew she _had_ to be the one to kill it. Aedan was going to be king. Alistair had to rebuild the Wardens. Riordan was nowhere to be found, and who was she? Nobody. Just some unlucky fool to be recruited into the Grey Wardens. This was all she was, all she would ever be, and if this was how she would have to redeem herself, Elissa was prepared to die.

Using what little energy she had, Elissa stood. She could feel blood on the side of her head, but what would that matter? She was going to die.

She couldn't find her sword. Where was it? How was she supposed to kill the Archdemon without a fucking weapon?

There it was. It was hard to see. Everything was burning.

Her swordarm was deadweight. Broken. She scooped her sword up in her other hand; it didn't feel right. She wasn't left-handed.

She had tunnel vision. Every step she took felt like a machine's. This wasn't her walking—it was the last bit of conscious thought she had, telling the rest of her body it could rest soon. There was one last task, one last quest that she refused to let Aedan take charge of.

What use would she be to Ferelden, anyway? They would need him when the Blight was over. Anora would need him.

She staggered, tripped over a bow, and fell to her knees at the front of the dragon's snout. Hot air blew from its nostrils as it took a labored breath, and it opened one eye. It was bigger than her fist. And in those eyes she saw an understanding that she was glad couldn't haunt her for much longer.

Elissa had to use her sword to stand. None of her limbs wanted to work.

She sucked in a breath. Her hand was shaking so violently she feared dropping her sword, but that big eye closed, and as soon as it did, she plunged her blade into the dragon's head.

The world went black for several long seconds, but by the time Elissa had fought off the throes of the dream, she had already managed to get her thoughts in order. That wasn't real. It was a nightmare, but it left her feeling exhausted, and her heart was racing. The pain she'd been feeling, it lingered for quite a while, and she had to sit back up to try and relax.

What the hell had happened? She hadn't even fallen asleep. This thing had just _taken_ her. Elissa wasn't tired when she had collapsed. It got her while she was awake, and the thought of that terrified her more than what she'd seen.

The exhaustion creeping up on her now was similar to the feeling she had after casting a spell, so it had to have been magic, but how? Every time she had one of these dreams, they had been just that. A dream. Not something that attacked her during her waking hours.

Sam nuzzled her again, worming his head into her lap, but she couldn't pay attention to him.

Killing the Archdemon was a death sentence. That much had been clear. She'd thought of another man, Riordan, and how he couldn't take the killing blow like he'd wanted, so he must've been a Warden. She only thought of Aedan and Alistair, and she had felt resigned to killing it, like she had known it had to be her to do it. It _had_ to be a Grey Warden to defeat the dragon.

And it would kill them in the process.

She had just been talking to Aedan about what she would do when the Blight was over, but now...now she knew she wasn't going to live to see it.

But then, she'd seen Aedan die before, been to the place he was supposed to die, and he was still here.

To counter that, though, none of those dreams had ever been so literal. She had never seen or heard of something or someone she hadn't already been introduced to. When Elissa had watched Aedan's death, it had been at the hands of darkspawn, and when they got there, it ended up being Marjolaine's assassins and herself. When they were children, she had seen a hooded man chasing them up a tree, not a bear.

No, this, this was real, and this was inevitable. It felt final. Elissa was going to die.


	31. Chapter 31

Dinner was...bland. It was the first real taste of food Elissa had had in months, and it was the most unappetizing meal she'd ever seen. She could barely stomach anything, water included, and it was for that very reason she retreated to her room with the food. Bread, potatoes, cheese. There was flavor here, and she just...didn't want it.

Elissa hadn't been the only one to either skip or take their dinner to their room—both Alistair and Leliana had done something similar, with the former making a short appearance and the latter not making one at all. Alistair hadn't been very talkative after their return, leading Elissa to believe whatever encounter they'd had with his sister had been sour. She hadn't even seen Leliana when they returned; she had understandably wanted time to herself, but Elissa wanted to know what happened.

She could ask Aedan. Just go find him after dinner, and casually ask if they found Marjolaine. Maybe ask if they found Alistair's sister, too, just to make it look less suspicious. Ask for some details about the goings-on in the Alienage. There'd been slavers from Tevinter taking advantage of a sad situation that they'd sorted out earlier in the day. Yes, she could ask about all those things. That way her curiosity and worry could be satiated until Leliana was ready to talk.

Or she could act like a normal human being. She could just go ask Leliana herself instead of going behind her back. It would probably be nicer than Leliana finding out Elissa was snooping. Her skipping dinner would be the _perfect_ excuse for bothering her.

Elissa had to sit and debate for a minute. Would it be ruder to ask Aedan, or would it be ruder to pester Leliana?

She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair, chewing her lip, before making up her mind. She wanted to be better. If not for herself, for Leliana, and not sneaking around behind her back would be a good first step. She might even make a habit of it.

Decision made, Elissa hopped to her feet. She folded her blanket as best as she could, organized the messy pile of clothing and armor beside her door, and tried to make herself somewhat presentable. Pants tucked neatly into her boots, shirt laced back up, hair quickly brushed and braided. She gave her room a once-over as she headed for the door. It still looked like a wreck, but she couldn't place her finger on why.

Every room Elissa had seen Leliana in was so tidy, and hers was always unorganized. Did that bother her? What if Leliana thought she was a slob?

Elissa scoffed. Of course she was a slob. She'd never had to clean up after herself. She barely knew how to make her own bed, and even that was clearly a half-assed attempt. Everyone else took time to organize their belongings whereas Elissa was satisfied as long as she could find everything before leaving. There was no way Leliana _didn't_ think of her as a mess.

Oh well. Maybe that was part of her charm? Elissa hoped so.

Satisfied this was as good as she'd manage, Elissa headed out her door and jogged down the corridor. This was perhaps the silliest thing she was ever going to do, but Leliana deserved it. She deserved the whole world. If Elissa could've given it to her, she would have.

Down a staircase, across the main hall, and down another set of stairs until she found the kitchens. They were smaller than the ones at Highever and Redcliffe, but then, this was only a small estate, meant for housing a family and a few guards, not those same people on top of however many of them there were. How many people had Aedan recruited now? There was the three of them—her, Aedan, and Alistair. Then there was Morrigan, Leliana, Sten, Zevran, Wynne, and Oghren. Bodahn and Sandal had long gone their own way simply from lack of business, but it was understandable, so there were _nine_ of them in total. That was over twice the capacity the kitchen was prepared for, so the chaos Elissa walked into was both understandable and unsurprising.

She edged her way past scrambling elves, muttering to themselves while the cook was barking orders. Her goal was the preparation table, where quite a few plates still sat untouched. No one seemed to be paying her much attention, so she grabbed one of the plates, took the only pitcher of something that wasn't water, and headed back the way she came.

Elissa didn't doubt that cook would've lost his mind if he'd seen her. They were just so busy preparing meals for Eamon's knights that they didn't care who came and went.

Getting back into her room with two full hands was a bigger challenge than it had any right to be, but once she had everything where it belonged, Elissa went back out into the hallway. Just a few more steps, past Morrigan's room, to Leliana's. She inhaled deeply, fidgeted with her shirt a bit, before lifting a hand to knock, but something stopped her.

Only a few hours ago she was conflicted about whether or not to put an end to this and whatever they had. She was a mess, literally and figuratively, and Leliana didn't deserve to go through it with Elissa. Whatever her problems were, she needed to work through them on her own.

But then, she'd had that vision. Where she died. And Leliana would be hurting now, no matter what the outcome of their confrontation was, so what would it matter? If Elissa was going to die, why couldn't she enjoy what little life had given her?

Because it was cruel. If she really was destined to die fighting the Archdemon, leading Leliana on like this would be the worst thing she'd ever done.

Simple solution: don't die. Unfortunately that would then recreate the problem Elissa was already struggling with.

She sighed and shook her head. Why couldn't anything ever be easy?

She knocked once. Several seconds passed before the lock clicked and the door swung open.

"Again, I am unsurprised to see you," Leliana said.

Elissa felt her cheeks redden, and unlike Leliana, Elissa _was_ surprised to see that little grin. It was like Leliana counted every time she made her blush. She would've had to be able to count pretty high—Elissa was easily flustered. "Well, I mean...I'm a pretty simple person. Where else do I go?"

Leliana leaned against the doorframe, one hand planted on her hip, and said, "So? What do you want?"

Elissa blinked, confused, and then gathered her thoughts. "You skipped dinner."

"Um, yes," Leliana said, frowning. "I wasn't hungry."

"I was wondering if you wanted to..."

"To...?"

She laughed awkwardly. _How was this the_ good _idea?_

"I got you dinner," Elissa explained. "In my room. In case you changed your mind."

The blank expression Leliana presented a moment ago was replaced with a small smile. It made Elissa's heart race. Yes, this was definitely the good idea.

Leliana straightened and Elissa moved aside so she could step outside. She was more than content to follow the bard back to her room, relieved that Leliana had even appeared remotely interested in conversation. She didn't shut down like Elissa did when she was upset or stressed, and as weird as it was, it was a welcome change.

She immediately plopped down in a chair at Elissa's small table. It was oddly ungraceful. Not that Elissa minded or cared, it was just odd.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" Leliana asked.

Elissa slid into the seat across from her. "I can't want to do something nice for you?"

Leliana raised a quizzical brow. "You can, but you look like you have something to say."

"You got me," Elissa admitted. She paused for a moment, hand quickly locking onto her fork so she had something to fidget with. She didn't exactly know how to say what she wanted to, so she decided to just do it. "I was wondering what happened today."

"With Marjolaine?"

Elissa nodded.

Leliana sighed, shrugged a single shoulder. "I...made sure she wouldn't ever bother me again."

"So she's dead?"

One, slow, pained nod. Leliana swallowed, eyes firmly planted on a knot in the table's scrubbed surface.

"I'm sorry."

She nodded again, but didn't say anything. What was there to say? That she missed her? That she regretted it? If Elissa was in her place, she would've been glad to be rid of Marjolaine, but then, she wasn't, and she didn't always think the same way Leliana did.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm just thinking."

"What about?"

Leliana sat forward, eyes suddenly alert and alight. "I can't get it out of my head. I'd been in Lothering for years and she still thought I was plotting against her. She didn't trust me. Maybe she never did. She loved me when she could use me and control me, and now that she can't, she wants me dead. It...it hurts to realize that I never really knew her."

"Maybe you just didn't want to admit it to yourself."

"I knew she was ruthless, but I didn't know how far she could go. She is self-serving, cruel... She uses people, then discards them, but that's how she survives in the life she leads. She—"

Leliana cut herself off, suddenly unable to look Elissa in the eye. Maybe it would be overstepping, but Elissa reached across the table to push their plates aside and squeeze her hand. "What is it?"

"She told me we are just alike," Leliana said. "W-what if she was right? What if we're the same?" Elissa couldn't think of anything to say, but she didn't have to. Leliana kept going. "I...perhaps it would've been wiser to stay in the Chantry."

"She would've just attacked you there."

"Maybe, but that is not the point. I was a different person there. I forgot my life as a bard while I was in the cloister. I felt safe. I didn't have to watch my back all the time. That's what made Marjolaine the person she is, don't you see? It ruined her; it will ruin me too."

"You're better than that, though."

"No, it already happened. When we killed her...I-I enjoyed it. Seeing her dead gave me satisfaction."

"She deserved it," Elissa said, frowning.

"So? It is still no reason to rejoice over her death. That is what she would do. I don't want that. What we're doing...what we've done—hunted men down, killed them—part of me loves it. It invigorates me and this scares me. I...I feel myself slipping."

"You're not. It's just who you are."

"I admit I took great pleasure in the intrigue back in Orlais. It was dangerous and chaotic... it was _exciting,_ but it destroyed my life. I thought the Chantry showed me another path. I thought I was done with this life. Am I wrong?"

"I thought you said you didn't fit in there."

"There is this thought that floats in my mind constantly—that I lie when I say the Chantry gave me peace, when in truth it...it bored me. Here, with you...the freedom of the road and the uncertainty of tomorrow... I feel alive again."

Elissa frowned. "Then why run from it?"

Leliana looked away again, pulled her hand back into her lap. "I do not want to be Marjolaine."

"You're not."

She had this far off look in her eye, like she was thinking harder than Elissa had ever done in her life. "Maybe you're right. I don't want to admit it, even to myself, but all those years in Lothering, I yearned for the freedom and recklessness I knew in Orlais. The Maker made this world beautiful, but He also made it dangerous. To really experience it, I have to embrace this—not hide away in some nunnery."

"You were never meant for the cloister. Sometimes I look at you and I forget that's where we found you."

Leliana laughed, sounding sad. "Sometimes it takes another to show us the truths we hide from ourselves."

"I'm glad I could help."

Leliana gave her a surprisingly easy smile. "And I'm glad I left Lothering with you and your brother. I...I thank the Maker for you everyday. You're a true friend."

Elissa arched a brow. "Friend?"

"Well, what else would I call you?"

Elissa shrugged. "Dunno. You're better at this than I am."

Her smile broadened into something devilish. It made Elissa's heart skip a beat, and she was suddenly very, very busy digging into her cold food.

Several long minutes passed in a comfortable quiet. Elissa was the only one eating, but Leliana appeared more relaxed now, so that was a plus. The anxiety leading up to this little...whatever it was made her hungry and eating was something of an escape. She briefly wondered if Leliana ever felt anything like...what she felt.

The anxiety, the jealousy, all the weirdness in between. Leliana just seemed so...mature, and Elissa felt lame in comparison.

"I'm glad you're okay," Elissa said.

"I will be," Leliana agreed, "but enough about me. What were you up to while we were gone?"

She froze in the middle of chewing. The dream flashed through her eyes again—all the smoke, the fire, the darkspawn, the dragon. Her body ached everywhere, and only when she blinked did it go away.

Elissa finished chewing and swallowed. "Nothing interesting." She knew that look in Leliana's eye, though, and she knew Leliana knew she was lying. "Sam and I watched the clouds."

"You. Watched...the clouds?"

"I used to do that a lot in Highever," Elissa said. "There were only so many books to read and so many knights to best. Eventually I exhausted all of those things."

Leliana laughed and shook her head. "You never cease to surprise me."

Elissa laughed too, hoping she'd successfully turned Leliana's mind elsewhere. They had promised not to keep secrets from one another. They had agreed their secrets were far too dangerous to keep and that they needed to be shared immediately, especially if they could hurt someone else.

As far as Elissa knew, Leliana had been honest ever since. She had even tried to be herself, but oh, this...this was something else. This was the most selfish secret she could've kept, the most disgusting thing Elissa could've ever hid from Leliana, and she didn't see herself revealing it any time soon.

Eventually, Elissa finished her meal and Leliana had finished picking at her own, so they moved to the bed. There Leliana spoke of her usual—various things she had seen in Orlais, things she'd been part of or orchestrated, and when she spoke, she seemed so...content. Before, Leliana had never hesitated to tell Elissa a story or talk about anything under the sun, but this was different. Elissa couldn't put a finger on it, but seeing her like this made her happy.

They could stay like this forever and Elissa would never want to change it.


	32. Chapter 32

Dinner might've been rather uneventful the night before, but breakfast today more than made up for it.

Elissa thought Aedan would've tried something. Elissa thought _she_ would've tried something. Never in her life had Elissa been more protective of a complete stranger, but seeing Teyrn Loghain and _Rendon Howe_ march into Eamon's estate after this woman had been reason enough. From Elissa's understanding, Eamon had tried to arrange a meeting with her—an elf named Erlina, handmaiden to Queen Anora—earlier, but it had been too risky, and instead they first carried out Anora's wishes by cleaning out the Alienage.

Anora was being held hostage by her own father, stuck in Howe's most recent acquisition—the Arl of Denerim's estate.

He'd been a busy boy.

It had taken considerable effort for Elissa to not smite the man where he stood. She didn't even know how to use magic without Hope's assistance, but oh, she was sure she would've figured it out. If only for Howe, Elissa would've done it.

Elissa had moved on. She had moved past her family's untimely demise, but from Aedan's reaction, it was clear he had not. She had had to restrain him herself, having practically thrown herself across the table to get to him before he got to Howe. He, of all people, should've understood that that was not the time nor the place to get his revenge. If _she_ could understand that, he should've been able to.

But he didn't. He didn't, and it had been a split second decision to stop him. Aedan almost got away with it. Elissa almost let him rip the man in half. It was unlikely he would've gotten that far, with Loghain and three knights between them, and that was her only reason for stopping him.

Elissa had moved on, but she still wanted to see him dead. Not for her benefit, but for Aedan's. For Fergus'. Aedan loved their family. She remembered the day Oren was born, how excited Aedan was to have someone he could teach and train. She remembered the utter devastation on his face when they found him choking on his own blood.

And they couldn't kill him. They had blood rights, and they still had to leave him untouched.

It made her sick.

Aedan had thrown himself into Erlina's plan. Anora was technically restricted to her room, so _technically_ she could leave, but it was likely Howe's guards were under orders to enforce the "technicality."

They needed Anora. She could potentially be their greatest ally at the Landsmeet. Arl Eamon, two Couslands, a royal bastard, and a queen standing up to Loghain might be enough on its own, but he'd had months to kiss ass and make friends with people who would usually hate him. They didn't have that luxury. That alone made it all the more imperative that they rescue Anora—it was the only way they stood a chance.

Elissa didn't exactly know what they were fighting for, but whatever it was, it had to be the better option. Just the support of the Landsmeet, perhaps? For months, it had been their word against Loghain's, and this was their opportunity to tell the world what _really_ happened at Ostagar.

For Alistair, that time couldn't come fast enough.

"I don't think you should go," Elissa said.

She was sitting on a bench across the hall, hands clasped in front of her face. Aedan, Eamon, and Erlina were going over their plan one more time before she took them on their way, but Elissa's voice had halted their conversation.

"What?"

"I don't think Aedan should go," Elissa repeated, a little louder.

"And why is that?" Eamon wondered aloud.

She stood, sucking in a deep breath. She hadn't really thought the suggestion through—she'd blurted it out without any thought whatsoever. "He's a common face. To...Howe and his men, I mean." Elissa turned her gaze to Aedan, who had stiffened quite a bit, and looked like he was still biting back the irritation and rage from earlier. "You grew up with these people, Aedan, and I didn't. It would be safer if—"

"Have you forgotten the bar fight?" Aedan asked quietly. "When _five_ of Howe's knights tried to arrest you?"

"No," Elissa said quickly. He was pissed, understandably so. He wanted his revenge, and what she was suggesting they do would most likely take that away from him. There was a good chance they would run into Howe while freeing Anora. There was a good chance they would have to kill him to escape, and it was becoming increasingly apparent she was saying she and Erlina go without him.

"But it's very likely they were looking _for_ me. They probably knew we were in the city and probably had an idea of what we looked like. Leliana can cut my hair before we go and I'll wear a helmet—I'll look totally different."

"She...makes a good point," Erlina muttered, taking a small but obvious step away from Aedan.

"We can't change what you look like, Aedan, or the fact that you were training with half of those men from birth," Elissa continued. His hands balled up into fists. "And if you don't go, you can spend time with some of the banns here. You can persuade them to give us their aid."

"It won't work," he grumbled.

"Why? Because you don't want it to, or because you actually believe that?" The cold stare he was giving her, it was so completely wrong and unnatural from him that it scared her. But she wasn't going to back down—she never contributed to their cause, and she wanted to. "You're the most charismatic person in this room, brother. If _anyone_ is going to get these people to listen, it's you."

Several expressions washed over his face. One of anger, irritation, hurt, confusion, anger again, and then finally, his expression relaxed, and she knew she won.

* * *

Elissa's hair hadn't been this short in _years._ It was only a few inches longer than Leliana's, just barely long enough to pull back into a bun, but it was still so strange. There was no weight on her shoulder. Her braid hadn't exactly been heavy, but it was odd nonetheless.

Leliana had been somewhat reluctant to cut it all off—apparently she was rather fond of Elissa's braid. Who would've guessed?

Aedan had been...distant. He wasn't happy to be the one being left behind, but he had agreed to the logic behind it. If he wasn't so annoyed, she wondered if he would be just as weirded out by her haircut as she was.

All of this was strange. She had her pick of the entire party for her _own_ mission. Sten and Oghren would have to be left out—dwarves and qunari were not common appearances in a city guard, so it really didn't leave her many options to vary from Aedan's usual.

Alistair, obviously. He was big, and he could hold his own against several men without breaking a sweat. Leliana because...well, because Elissa liked her, and Zevran solely because a mage trying to pass off their staff as anything but would be difficult. He would just have to wear a helmet with a visor and pray to the Maker that no one realized he was a man.

While the others were finishing up their preparations, Elissa rehearsed their plan in her head.

Erlina had managed to steal a few uniforms from the barracks over the course of the last few days. It would be enough to get them into the estate without arousing suspicion, and it would be enough to keep any unsure eyes from looking too close. As long as they avoided any captains, they should be safe.

Once inside, they would locate Anora, give her one of the disguises, and leave the same way they arrived. Ideally, they wouldn't have to fight anyone, and it would only take an hour or two. Quick by their standards.

It was likely though that something would go wrong. Someone would see through their disguises, or they wouldn't be able to find Anora. Or it would be something she couldn't predict, something she couldn't possibly be ready for, and either they would die, or Anora would.

Neither of those outcomes would be ideal.

Her and Alistair were the first to join Erlina in the courtyard. Elissa had wrapped the hilt of her sword with a layer of linen in hopes of hiding the crest in the pommel and cross-guard, and they had both covered their shields with white pieces of fabric. Elissa refused to fight anything without her shield ever again, and she wasn't about to try and adjust to something that weighed differently. Alistair seemed to share the sentiment.

They had the foresight to refrain from any armor. As much of their blues that could be shedded were—if they got anywhere near Howe's estate in those colors, they would be recognized and killed on sight.

That left both of them with a padded jacket, though Alistair's was studded with chain, and hers was bare. Too much weight, and it would clash with the different style of armor she wore compared to his. Hers was thinner, with far less plating and metal, to allow her to maneuver easily, and probably just because the blacksmith didn't think she would be able to carry it.

His suit was far bulkier, with those studs covering any gaps in the platemail itself to allow a decent range of motion while not exposing anything vital.

Seeing Alistair so...undressed was quite strange. Elissa was so accustomed to him being either entirely covered in armor, or in nothing but pants and a shirt. This was about as lightly protected as she had ever seen.

"What?" he asked, eyes meeting hers. "Is my shirt on backwards?"

She cracked a smile. "No, I think you have a bald spot starting."

He feigned a look of worry, chuckling. "Oh, not my precious hair!"

They both snickered. It was a welcome distraction for Elissa. She didn't have to worry about what could go wrong with Alistair around—he was all silliness and stupid jokes, just like Aedan used to be, and it was a relief. She thought they could've been good friends if she hadn't acted the way she did before.

It was such a shame.

"Elissa?"

Aedan's voice snapped them both out of their giggles. He was fully equipped, helmet tucked under his arm and shield slung across his shoulders, and he didn't look anywhere near as angry as earlier.

"Can I talk to you? Privately?"

Her and Alistair exchanged glances—whenever Aedan was upset, which wasn't often, Alistair relied on her to deal with it because he just couldn't. It was fair. Aedan was an intimidating force when he was frustrated.

Aedan pulled her aside, well out of earshot from both their fellow Warden and Erlina. Worry creased his brows, and if he wasn't wearing gloves, she was sure his knuckles would be white from squeezing his helmet so tight.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "for how I acted. It wasn't right."

Yes, it was. She was an incompetent fool and he was their leader, and they were switching roles, simply because she was more sheltered as a child than he was. It was an utterly stupid idea and Elissa shouldn't have said anything, but this was what part of her wanted, regardless of how intelligent it was.

She couldn't tell him that. He would worry more if she wasn't even a little confident in herself.

"It's all right." He nodded, sucking in a deep breath as he straightened a little. "It's...not my place to really, uh...handle this."

"What do you mean?"

Elissa shrugged, eyes flicking to the doors as Leliana and Zevran emerged in tandem. The bard's eyes immediately found hers, brows furrowing in a silent question, and Elissa forced herself to look back to her brother.

She didn't really know how to say it. How despite the fact that it was _their_ family that was murdered, she felt it was more of _his_ suffering that was caused by it. How she felt it should be his right to confront Howe, not hers, and how he should be the one in charge of this stupid plan. How many times had Elissa even met Anora? Once? Aedan grew up with her, was her friend, and would be easier for her to trust.

"I'm not the one with a crush, am I?"

He blinked once, twice, three times, until he processed the joke, and then he smirked. "Oh, I don't know about that, dear sister." Her cheeks flushed and he winked before swinging his helmet onto his head. "Wish me luck—I'm off to woo any drunk nobleman I can find in the bars."

She snorted. "Good luck."


	33. Chapter 33

This stress was unlike Elissa had ever known in her entire life. Every look anyone sent them made her skin crawl, wonder desperately if they were going to raise the alarm, if they looked suspicious, and Maker, did she _hate_ it.

But they had managed to get this far—they were well within the walls of the estate. It was much grander than Eamon's, maybe than even Highever, but this was the Arl of Denerim's estate, and not just some summer home for when the Landsmeet was called. People lived here year-round, guards and knights were trained here. This was a place that needed stone and mortar, and not just wood and walls.

Erlina was a quiet woman, it seemed, or she just didn't like Elissa. Both were likely options. She hadn't been very thrilled about Elissa's accompaniment even though she had agreed Elissa might've had a good idea. She made one skeptical remark about how Anora had specifically asked after Aedan, and then off they went.

So when she abruptly turned through a side door, Elissa wasn't surprised. She was, however, extremely disappointed to see what was on the other side of it.

Another door, which by itself wouldn't have meant a thing, but she could see a faint shimmer around it, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alistair's shoulders sag. He used to be a templar, or well on his way to becoming one, so he was well versed in magical seals, and she was a mage, so she felt the energy radiating from it.

Why was it so much to ask for something to be simple?

The elf went straight to the door, saying, "The Grey Warden is here, my lady."

From beyond, Elissa heard a familiar voice. It was firm, belonging to a woman who was used to giving orders, and used to having those orders heeded.

"Thank the Maker! I would greet you properly, but I'm afraid we've had a minor setback."

Elissa swallowed. Something about the idea of speaking with Anora felt wrong, felt...unnatural. The queen was not someone to talk to someone like Elissa, and vice versa. Even in a situation like this, it felt wrong.

"Aside from the obvious?" Elissa questioned.

There was a pause, but Anora immediately came back with, "My 'host' was not content with leaving me under heavy guard. He's sealed the door with magic."

 _So just the obvious, then,_ Elissa thought.

She ran her hand down her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Why didn't you mention this before we left, Erlina?"

"I did not know!" she said, face falling. "There were only guards here when I left. We must get her out of there."

"Don't panic, Erlina," Anora said. "The mage who cast this spell is likely at Howe's side. Find him and kill him."

Elissa sighed. "So much for secrecy."

"Well, if he didn't know you were here, he soon will."

Alistair leaned closer. "This sounds like a trap."

Erlina's look of despair quickly changed to one of horror. "Please Warden, I beg you: do not leave my queen here."

"Free me, and I promise you my aid in the Landsmeet."

"We must hurry," Erlina urged. "It will not be long before the guards discover us. Teyrn Howe will probably be in his rooms. They're at the end of the hall, on the left."

Elissa looked to Alistair, to Leliana, and even to Zevran, before nodding. "Stay here, then, and we'll be back once this mage has been dealt with."

Rather than allow herself to think about the fact she was actually going to see that rat of a man, Elissa focused on following their simple instructions. All the way at the end of the hall, last door on the left. She followed them perfectly, refusing to look anywhere else.

Her stomach twisted into knots as she threw the door open.

Nothing there. It was an empty foyer, with one chess set on the opposite wall, and yet another heavy door across from them, though this one was open. Slowly, Elissa led them further into Howe's chambers, hand resting firmly in the hilt of her sword. One weird noise and she would have it drawn.

Her heart was hammering in her head. The only sounds was that of her own breathing and the fireplace roaring beside them. It had been lit recently—Howe was nearby.

The bedroom was empty as well, save for a few scattered notes and a trunk by the foot of the bed. She nodded in its direction, and while Zevran went to open it, Alistair stood watch by the inner door. She went to Howe's desk, rifling quickly through the letters left out. There were a few from Highever, from _fucking Thomas,_ and that familiar feeling in her gut wormed its way back up.

Leliana followed cautiously, skimming the reports over her shoulder. That's all they really were: reports. Nothing of interest, but upon snooping through the drawers, Elissa located a batch of earlier missives, dated as far back as when the Blight first started. Those she read in ernest, despite Zevran finishing with the lock, despite Alistair rejoining them.

Her hands were shaking as she read her own name, Aedan's name, Fergus' name, even Duncan's. Howe had been hunting them since they fled Highever. She had suspected he was always looking for them, as had Aedan, but this made mention of Fergus being sighted, _alive,_ in the Wilds. Howe had people watching them everywhere they went. Everything they did, every treaty they sought to acquire, Howe had known. He even had someone looking for Fergus in case he appeared somewhere, but the last report on him was months old, saying the man was still stuck with some Chasind tribe.

"Elissa?"

Zevran. He was holding another envelope, several of them to be precise, and she snatched them from his hands. The wax was still unbroken, leaving the Grey Warden insignia completely recognizable. She stuffed those in her pack for later, took one last look at his messages about her and her brothers, and then threw them in the fire.

This man was going to die.

Anger was threatening to boil over. She could feel Hope stirring, that familiar bubbling in her chest and that sickeningly sweet warmth, but she squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and forced herself to relax.

This wasn't the time. They had a job to do and Elissa wasn't about to let some personal squabble come between her and her goal. Anora was going to leave with them, and that was going to happen whether Howe agreed to it or not.

There wasn't much else to look at. A few books, some clothes, and just the bed. All that really left them was a short set of stairs, descending down to what would probably end up being more doors and disappointment. If there seemed to be a recurring thing in her life, it would be doors and disappointment.

Elissa led them through said door, only to find themselves face to face with a guard.

"What're you do—"

An arm shot out of the cell behind him, locking around his throat, and Elissa felt herself jump out of her skin. The guard kicked and struggled, at first punching, and then clawing at the arm as he gasped for air.

It was over just as quick as it started. The guard slumped to the ground, and the same arm poked back out, plucking the keys from his belt. After the cell was unlocked, the body was dragged back, and the rustling that came from within signified whoever was imprisoned there was stripping the man of his armor.

Elissa wasn't keen to meet whoever was in there, but she didn't exactly have a choice.

"I thank you for creating such distraction, stranger. I have been waiting days for the opportunity."

Between that accent and the man's features as he stepped from his cell, Elissa knew he was foreign, but she couldn't place the country. He didn't quite sound Antivan. His accent wasn't as...sharp as Zevran's was.

"Do you think you could—" He cut himself off as he looked from the corpse in his cell to them, eyes narrowing on her fellow Warden. "Alistair? Is that you?"

Elissa looked over her shoulder at the man, who looked just as confused as she was. Alistair frowned a bit, and then said, "You were at my Joining, weren't you?"

_Oh no._

"He's one of us," Alistair supplied, turning to her. "A Warden from Orlais." So her guess was completely off. His accent sounded nothing like Leliana's whatsoever. "Jader, I think, or was it Montsimmard? I'm afraid I don't remember your name."

There was a small smile on the Warden's lips as he bowed lightly. "I am Riordan, senior Warden of Jader, but born and bred of Highever and glad to be home."

Elissa felt her entire body go numb. This was the man she knew and didn't know at the same time. He was the one she thought of in that dream, the other Grey Warden.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, rather untactfully, even for herself.

He grimaced, short beard crinkling with his mouth. "For the most part, attempting to hold my tongue. I was sent when we received no word from King Cailan as to the outcome at Ostagar. The king had invited all the Wardens and their support troops to join him, and then...nothing."

Her and Alistair again exchanged looks, and she asked, "How many men did you bring with you?"

"We had two hundred Wardens and two dozen divisions of cavalry. The first we heard of Loghain's edict was when everyone was turned back at the border. That was when word reached us that Wardens were being blamed for the massacre."

So Loghain had turned an entire army away, and for what? Because they were Orlesian? Because he didn't like the Wardens?

"Eventually, we decided it was safer to send someone alone, to better understand how to fight the Blight and this regime simultaneously. As a native Fereldan, I volunteered to make the crossing."

She didn't know what to say. What could she? What was more disgusting, the fact that the Wardens just...gave in when Loghain told them to fuck off, or the fact that Loghain turned their aid away? How could anyone support that when the Bannorn was burning and people were dying?

Finally Elissa decided to simply return the papers in her belt—they were likely his, anyway, and she would have no real use for them. She doubted Aedan would either, or Alistair. From the way things sounded, this man was a _real_ Grey Warden, not three idiots fresh out of their Joinings with no experience or knowledge of the Blight.

He thanked her as he stowed them away in some pocket, and as he did so, she asked, "Will there be no help? The Archdemon is nearly upon us and we're still flailing."

Riordan paused, and then shook his head. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid we are on our own. The other Wardens will not risk their strength fighting Ferelden's civil war. If they spend themselves fighting Loghain, there is truly no hope. They recall accounts of the first Blight, how many cities fell. If Ferelden is too foolish to save itself, at least we will be ready when the Archdemon leads its forces further."

"The other Wardens... They're abandoning us?"

Alistair couldn't believe it, that much was evident from the tone of his voice. Even Elissa found that hard to believe, and while it made some sick sense, sacrifice the few for the good of the many, how could that even be an option? Weren't Grey Wardens supposed to protect innocent people from the darkspawn? Wasn't that the entire reason they existed? How could they turn their backs on them?

"On the bright side, I hear you haven't been doing a bad job of raising an army yourself," Riordan applauded. "Perhaps if the edict can be lifted, I can send word to them when we are rid of this place."

"Can't you recruit more Wardens?" Elissa questioned.

"Would that I could, for Ferelden sorely needs them, but for the Joining, a recruit needs fresh darkspawn blood and blood preserved from an Archdemon. Ferelden's supply should have been in the vault here in Denerim, but when I looked, it was gone. I can only imagine Loghain had it confiscated or destroyed."

There it was. Confirmation that they really were alone in this. There were no other Wardens coming and they had no way to recruit others, all thanks to Loghain. He had successfully isolated them from any assistance, and it was likely to lead to their doom.

No. They would win. Elissa was sure of it. She'd seen it herself.

"Have you seen Howe?" she asked.

He nodded to another exit. "I saw him go into the dungeons sometime ago. He's likely still there."

"Thank you," she said, and after mutual goodbyes and wishes of luck, he left them to it, hopefully to escape.

Without any pause, Elissa swung her shield from her back to her arm, securing the straps there and drawing her sword before continuing. She didn't expect Howe on the other side of the door, but if that guard's reaction was anything to go off of, they would be attacked on sight.

The others readied themselves similarly. She popped the release for the door with her sword, peering around the edge into the room beyond. It was more of a hallway, with several cells and other rooms lining the walls, and a table nearby. A pair of men were playing cards at it, and rather than raise the alarm for any other guards within, Elissa waved Leliana and Zevran forward.

Without instruction, the two of them readied their respective weapons, and when she threw the door open, one arrow whistled past and one of Zevran's knives flew overhead, both objects striking true. The guards barely had the chance to stand before they were dispatched.

Elissa took one of the man's set of keys. Prisoners escaping would cause the kind of chaos they would need to get out unscathed. Besides, who knows who Howe is keeping down here? Part of her longed for her father or mother to be behind one of those doors, but Elissa knew it was a fruitless hope, and the more doors they opened, the more it became obvious.

It wasn't a total waste of time and effort, though, as one of the rooms had several guards and one nude man strapped to a table. That man ended up being the son of the last arl and rightful heir to Denerim, Vaughan Kendells.

He promised his support at the Landsmeet for freeing him and went about his merry way, much to Leliana's visible displeasure.

"I'd be careful with that one," Leliana commented.

"Why?"

She hesitated, and then shook her head. "I'll tell you when we're in a place better suited for conversation."

They continued on their way, Elissa nervously opening every door out of fear of seeing Howe, but Maker, there were so many cells and so many guards, and she eventually forgot she didn't want to see the man. All she wanted was to get rid of the stupid seal on the door, free Anora, and return to Eamon's estate.

This is what Aedan did everyday, and Maker, was it exhausting.

One door exuded a different energy. It felt darker here, evil, and she didn't even have to open it to know why. It was a torture chamber, much like the one they'd just found Vaughan in—the doors were the exact same.

This one was different though. She could hear voices within, laughter and whispers, and above them all, she heard Howe's voice.

Elissa wasn't sure what propelled her to open that door. Was it anger? Fear? Or was it some deep desire for revenge, to make him pay for the people he murdered, people she told herself she didn't care about when she really did?

When he turned, the expression of confusion and annoyance was quickly replaced with a grin. "Ah, Bryce Cousland's little spitfire, all grown up and still playing the man." He looked over her shoulder as the four of them entered the room, disappointment splaying over his face. "I never thought you'd be foolish enough to turn up here, but then, you never were the smart one, were you?"

She clenched her jaw. Every fiber of her being was _screaming,_ begging, to spring into action, but Elissa couldn't make herself move.

"Where is Aedan? I'm quite disappointed he's not here. He should be here to watch you die."


	34. Chapter 34

He was rather spry for an old man, wasn't he?

Elissa clenched her jaw as Howe spun behind her, throwing her shield under her arm to cover her ribs as his dagger struck. She made a point to twist her leg at an awkward angle just so he'd trip over her foot as she turned.

As he staggered and tried to straighten himself, she sunk back behind her shield, sword pointed over the tip. He hadn't even left a mark on her armor, and she had left little cuts along his arms and his legs. She was _playing_ with him.

And by the look on his face, he knew it too.

"My dear Warden, I understand there's a, uh, certain beauty in revenge, but are we not here to accomplish something?"

Elissa's eyes flicked to Zevran for only a brief second, but the instant she looked away, Howe rushed her. His axe came down for her throat while he shoved his dagger up at her stomach. She stepped a fraction of an inch to the side, caught the dagger between her side and her shield, and dropped her own sword to grab his other wrist.

He jerked once, but her grip was like iron.

For the first time since their little duel began, fear crossed over Howe's face. He'd lost.

"Which sounds more ironic to you?" she whispered. One kick to his knee and he buckled, losing grip on the dagger even as she jerked his axe from him. As she crouched down with him, she grabbed him by his throat. "Killing you with my father's sword, or with your own weapon?"

There was no way Elissa was going to lose to him. She knew it before he even drew his weapons, knew it even as his guards and mages fell to her companions, knew it no matter how close his strikes came. He was far older, far slower, far weaker, but Elissa doubted he'd have had much of a chance even if they'd fought when he was at his peak.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something glint, and before he even knew what he was doing, Elissa's hand was there, twisting the knife from his grasp to hers, and she drove it into the side of his neck.

The look of utter shock, that was worth it.

"It must be terrible," Elissa said as she stood to retrieve her sword, "knowing how inconsequential I was growing up and knowing I killed you. What was I ever going to be, anyway? Your son's wife?"

He coughed as he fell forward and blood stained her boots.

"Oh no, I'm not letting you off that easily. Get up."

She grabbed him by the shoulder, forced him to sit on his haunches.

"I still remember the look on your face when my father told you Aedan wasn't going to marry your daughter. How disappointing it must've been when you were told only I was going to be sold off like that. Me!"

Elissa leaned out of the way when he coughed again. He was getting pale.

She sighed, shook her head. One deft hand plucked the knife from his throat and he gurgled, choking on his blood. He wasn't even looking at her anymore—his eyes had glazed over.

She stood again, gripped her sword with both hands. One clean stroke, and his head came free of his shoulders.

For several long seconds, Elissa simply stared at the lifeless body at her feet. This man she had grown up far too close to, this man that should've been like a second father to her, and he had betrayed them. He murdered her father, her mother, her nephew, her brother's wife, and for all she knew, those reports of Fergus being alive were wrong. It had been nearly a year since she'd last seen him, and it was entirely possible that even if he _had_ survived Ostagar, he was dead now.

The darkspawn were moving north. The Blight was in full swing and the Bannorn was taking the brunt of it. If Fergus had somehow survived, it was more likely than not that the horde had caught up to him.

Elissa didn't even realize she was shaking until a hand fell on her shoulder. It was Leliana, expression soft, as she gently urged Elissa away.

"We need to go," she said.

Something about her touch, her voice even, sent something in Elissa reeling. It felt like the world snapped into clarity, and it was then she understood what had happened. That stupid spirit. Elissa hadn't even realized it happened until it let her go.

She looked back down to Howe's body and her stomach twisted. It was worse than she could've known. So many punctures, so many cuts and gashes, and he kept fighting. Elissa had _toyed_ with him, fully aware there was no way he was going to best her, and it hadn't even been her fighting him.

It took every ounce of willpower she had to not throw up.

"Elissa."

Firm this time. It was what she needed.

"Let's get out of here."

* * *

The walk back to Anora's prison was short. Elissa had anticipated...something, but then, what could happen? They hadn't set the alarm off. They were extremely thorough in clearing every room in the dungeon so no guard could sneak away and raise it.

But this felt too calm. Something should go wrong. Something _always_ went wrong.

As they rejoined Erlina in the small corridor, the elf knocked once, and Anora exited the room, wearing a similar getup to the ones the four of them sported.

Elissa inclined her head once as a show of respect and Anora said, "My thanks."

"Any reason in particular you're wearing that?"

"Because there are two kinds of people in this house: those loyal to Howe, and those loyal to me. If Howe's people find me, I'll be killed. And my people will insist on escorting me back to the palace...where my father may also have me killed."

Elissa gave her a once over, eyes narrowing. She looked like what she expected. A few inches taller than herself with disgustingly good posture only found in people of noble blood.

"And how do you know we won't also kill you?" Elissa asked.

Anora straightened a little, like she was rising to a challenge, and Elissa instantly felt insignificant. "I have faith in my husband's uncle...and in old friends."

Something was off about this entire interaction, but Elissa couldn't put her finger on it. There was no way Anora was referring to her; she expected Aedan, so she was likely referencing him. They had been friends up until her and Cailan's wedding, and that hadn't been so long ago. There was a very good chance Anora still considered them such.

After eyeing her for another moment, Elissa nodded. "Very well."

They barely made it ten feet before they were halted at the main gate.

So this is where everything went wrong.

There were six of them, and only four were armed. There were at least ten armed knights and just as many city guards, lined along the wall and the door, with that same damned knight as yesterday. What was her name again? Cauthrien?

"Warden," she said coolly. "In the name of the regent, I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms. Surrender, and you may be shown mercy."

This was absolutely absurd.

"Rendon Howe was holding your queen hostage," Elissa retorted.

"Don't be ridiculous," Cauthrien scoffed. "The queen is not being held prisoner here or anywhere else. Her father would not stand for it."

"Do you want to ask her yourself?"

"What?"

Anora stepped forward, motioning for Erlina to follow, and as soon as she opened her mouth, Elissa knew this had been a set-up.

"Praise the Maker you're here! This brigand tried to capture me!"

Elissa just made a face when Cauthrien looked back to her. What could she say? It was her word against Anora's, and this was one of Loghain's lackeys. Anora's word was law.

She looked along the room again. At least twenty enemies, if not more waiting in the other hallway. There was no way they were fighting their way out of this unless Elissa was blindsided by Hope, and she doubted that would happen. The spirit had a nasty habit of showing up when it wanted to, not when Elissa wanted it or needed its help.

It tried, but damn, it was bad at it still.

"As you wish," Elissa said, shrugging. "We surrender."

"What?" Alistair demanded.

Elissa glared daggers at him, and when he seemed to have gotten the message, she turned back to Ser Cauthrien. "If I give myself up, you'll let my friends go?"

"You have my word," she promised.

Elissa inhaled deeply, and then nodded. In one smooth motion, she unbelted her sword and handed it out to Leliana. Several of the guards reached for their own weapons, but she had no plan to attack them. Even Cauthrien stiffened a little.

"What is this?"

"Give it to Aedan," Elissa said. "I don't care who is arresting me. They're not taking our sword."

Leliana hesitated. She didn't want it. How would it look if she took it back to Aedan without Elissa attached? She didn't want it. She couldn't take it, but Elissa was looking at her still, expression dark and serious, and she had no option. She couldn't shoot her entire quiver fast enough to save them.

Reluctantly, Leliana accepted the weapon, and Elissa squared her shoulders, whispering a quick word of thanks.

As she stepped forward, Alistair said, "She's not the only Warden here."

"Quiet!" Elissa hissed.

He followed her, and Leliana could see him swallow nervously. Cauthrien's eyes narrowed as Alistair stopped beside Elissa. "I'm Alistair Theirin."

Understanding dawned on her face. "Maric's bastard?" At his nod, she turned to the man on her left. "Take them both."

Elissa whispered something to Alistair as the large man lumbered down the stairs, producing a coil of rope from his belt. Alistair was the first to be secured, wrists bound tightly at his waist, while another guard took his sword and shield. A third confiscated Elissa's shield, holding her in place until the first could bind her wrists as well.

The guard tried to shove them forward, but Elissa ducked and stepped aside.

"You gave me your word," she snapped.

Cauthrien paused for a second, looked at her and Zevran, and then nodded. On her signal, the stoic guards turned and marched out the gates, leaving them, Cauthrien, Anora, and Erlina in the foyer alone.

"Is that satisfactory?"

The guard shoved Elissa up the steps and she mumbled something, probably something stupid because it was followed up with a cuff across the back of her head.

Leliana didn't know what to do. There had to have been something, but all she found herself capable of doing was watching as Elissa and Alistair were led away. She had never felt so helpless. Of all the times to be unable to act, why did it have to be now?

It hurt to watch her be hit like that. It hurt to watch and know there was nothing she could do. If she tried anything, it was likely both of the Wardens would be killed and then they would be too, and Cauthrien just wouldn't care.

Anger flowed through her as she clenched her fist around the scabbard of Elissa's sword.

"You—"

"Relax, Orlesian," Anora said. "I saved our lives."

"You likely sentenced them to death," Zevran retorted.

" _After_ we saved you."

Leliana couldn't believe any of this.


	35. Chapter 35

"Where am I?"

The last thing Elissa could remember, she had been in shackles, stripped of her armor and weapons, and thrown into a cell beside Alistair, but this... This was not a prison.

"You are safe."

Chills ran down Elissa's spine. Hope's voice. It was unnerving to hear a demon speak—the power in their voices could be heard plain as day, but Hope's voice was so far on a different level of terrifying that the terror itself was unsettling. There was so much there, so much knowledge, so much energy, and so much power. This was a creature Elissa didn't understand, and if she wasn't careful, it might change its mind about her and snuff her out.

She turned in search of the presence she felt, but as soon as her eyes fell on the mass, it was gone, moving just out of sight.

Gritting her teeth, Elissa turned back to the path she was on. Twisted trees sprouted up from the ground. The grass was ethereal, and out of curiosity, she crouched to run her fingers through it. Part of her was unsurprised to find it fake—it swayed to some unknown breeze, but she couldn't touch it.

Ahead, she saw the same temple as before, stretching above so high she couldn't see the peak. The architecture was distinctly inhuman, but from the little she knew about this spirit, it was likely elven in nature. The first time it had drawn her to the Fade, Elissa found herself surrounded by stuff like this, and the second time it shifted it so frequently Elissa had barely the strength to keep up.

"Why do you bring me here?"

It didn't reply, so she marched forward, determined to find some answer, even if she wouldn't like it. Faces swirled in the fog around her. Faces caught in expressions of agony, of fear, of delight, of excitement, of sadness. All the faces were so angular, some had tattoos. Vallaslin, if she remembered correctly, but then, when had she ever learned that term?

Elissa hesitated and swallowed nervously. "What is your obsession with elves?"

Something brushed against her leg, or rather, she brushed against _it._ Her eyes fell on a large black dog with several closed eyes, sleeping peacefully, and she jumped, hand vainly searching for a sword that wasn't there.

"He sleeps," Hope said.

The air beside her tensed, swirled, and a figure materialized there. It was roughly the same height as she was, but she couldn't make out a face. Deep purple armor in a style she didn't recognize covered the person from head to toe.

The figure looked down at the dog, a wolf, and she followed its gaze even as one red eye opened.

Something in Elissa froze. There was so much going on, just in one eye, and suddenly, every prayer she had ever uttered to the Maker came to mind. It was like the eye itself was reading her, analyzing her, and she couldn't look away. Her chest heaved for air, but she still held its gaze. She couldn't make herself look away, couldn't close her eyes, couldn't move. It was reading her entire life like a book, and still she couldn't resist.

The figure waved a hand and the wolf disappeared, turning to smoke to mingle with the fog.

"He is the one who trapped me here," Hope said.

"Who?"

"Without me, you are nothing," it continued, now pacing angrily. "Without you, I am nothing. We must defeat him together."

"Defeat who?" Elissa begged.

"I will teach you when the darkspawn have been beaten."

Elissa threw her hands up in frustration. "You saw the same thing I did! We _die_ fighting the Archdemon. _We die._ Do you know what that means?"

"Mythal's child will save us."

Elissa didn't understand a lick of what was going on. She was so beyond lost, and with every sentence it spewed, she was only further confused. "I don't even know who Mythal is!"

"A friend."

"You're a spirit. You're not real. You don't exist. You don't _have_ friends."

The figure froze when she said it wasn't real. She felt her heart drop into her stomach, felt her heart skip a beat back in reality, and oh boy, she knew she made a mistake.

"Do not speak on matters you do not understand, mortal," it snapped. "I could abandon you to the wolf and rid myself of you, but here I stay."

"If I'm so stupid and don't know what's going on, why not tell me?" Elissa countered. "If you can just leave, why don't you? Isn't it obvious I want nothing to do with you? I want nothing to do with any of whatever you're talking about and you're making it sound like I don't have a choice."

"I need you," it said softly. "I need you to exist in your world just as you need me to use what you call magic."

"But _why?_ " Elissa felt like she was pleading with a child.

"Do you know how to imbue yourself with the strength I give you? The speed? The agility? The sight? It is a skill it took my people ages to master, and you abuse it as if it meant nothing."

She frowned. "Your people?"

Again, it paused in its pacing, but this time, it turned and reached for the helmet on its head. As it undid the straps across its chin, the empty expanse slowly materialized into shapes. By the time the helmet was entirely removed, Elissa was left standing face-to-face with an elf.

She had long blonde hair that was left unkempt, spilling over her shoulders, and the sharp features she recognized in the Dalish elves. Unlike them, however, her eyes were completely devoid of color, and there were no tattoos adorning her cheeks.

"You are not a spirit of hope," Elissa said.

"No," the woman replied. "And you are quite lucky I learn faster than you. Otherwise, it might be impossible for us to communicate."

"What are you?"

"I do not know," she said. "I was once a mage, what your elves call an arcane warrior. Stronger than you, stronger than your mortal friends can imagine."

"Why did you tell me you were a spirit when you knew you weren't?" She shrugged nonchalantly and Elissa felt herself bristle, but she tampered the annoyance. "So...you're an elf?"

"Once, a long time ago."

"If you're so...powerful, what do you need with me?" Elissa asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"My connection to the Fade and to myself has been severed," she said. "I am stranded and I cannot cross back without someone who can touch the Fade of their own accord." She looked off into the distance, but what she was looking at exactly escaped Elissa. She saw nothing. "I can find another. There are several people across this continent capable of what I'm searching for."

"No, I..." Elissa swallowed and looked away from those clear eyes, uncertain of how to continue, or what to say, or what to feel. "It's all right, I suppose."

The elf regarded her heavily. "I have never sought a mortal out after being summoned. I have always been able to turn you away, and yet, somehow, you are the one who chose me." Elissa forced her eyes back up to the elf. "Perhaps that is why we shall succeed."

* * *

Elissa woke with a start, jumping and flailing so abruptly Alistair yelped across from her. She looked around wildly, trying to remember where she had been before finding herself in the Fade, and was unhappy to recall this is exactly where she was—imprisoned at Fort Drakon.

_What just happened?_

So...it wasn't a spirit? It was an elf? Was she even possessed then? What was _anything_ anymore?

Elissa wracked her brain, holding her temples in her hands, as she tried to process everything. She wasn't possessed by a spirit of hope. It was something else, something scarier and more powerful, but it—she—seemed to like her. She needed Elissa at any rate, if only to access the Fade and whatever strength it gave her, so even if she changed her mind about liking her, it wouldn't kill her out of necessity.

All of that only made Elissa want to be rid of it more.

What did she mean Elissa chose her, though? She had said that before, that Elissa had been a flailing babe and called out to her, and the intrigue had been what drew her to her. Was it really that simple? Had Elissa been a frightened child looking for protection, and unfortunately found the last thing she could possibly ever want?

If she'd just been found by a demon, perhaps life would've been simpler.

But she needed it. She could barely cast spells on her own; this thing allowed her to be so much more. If she could figure out how to control it, she could be so powerful.

Elissa swallowed deeply. Did she really want that?

She hadn't been raised to expect any position of power. She'd been taught to take what she could get and be happy with it, and this thing was offering her more than she could comprehend.

Did Elissa want it?

"Are you all right?"

Alistair's voice sent waves rushing through her skull and she winced. Her head was throbbing so violently. Thinking past it was difficult enough, but she couldn't even remember being hit so hard.

As a matter of fact, Elissa could barely remember how she got here in the first place. Most of it was a blur. She remembered giving Leliana her sword, remembered Anora's apologetic expression as she was led away, remembered Alistair...

"Why the hell would you give yourself up like that?" she demanded. Her own voice made her headache worse.

Alistair regarded her heavily. He looked almost...surprised? "Why wouldn't I? We're both Grey Wardens and I'm not letting them drag you off alone."

She swallowed and looked away. "You should've let them."

Her eyes fell on the door to her cell as he spoke, saying something that would've been heartwarming had she listened. Alistair was a good man and she wasn't worth half the miniscule effort they put into their relationship. He was far better than she.

Elissa climbed to her feet, swaying as the ground rushed beneath her, but she managed to keep her footing.

"What are you doing?"

She pressed her hands against the cool metal, spreading her fingers wide. "We're not sticking around. I only surrendered so all of you could escape."

He hopped to his feet, leaning against the bars between them. "I'm assuming you have a plan?"

Elissa frowned as she scanned the door further. It didn't feel like there was much resistance. She shook it as best as she could and it rattled, loose on its hinges.

"We're getting out of here," she said with a grin.

She took a few steps back, returned to the door, now placing a hand where she learned the lock was. She didn't even have to worry that the energy would come to her, or that it wouldn't cooperate. Chills shot down her spine and through her arm, through her hand. Ice spread across the metal. It took every ounce of concentration she could spare to force it _through_ the door itself, over the lock.

Once she was satisfied, Elissa slouched over, hands on her knees, breathing heavy and in no small amount of awe.

Alistair scoffed out a laugh, a grin spreading over his features, and he said, "That's almost as impressive as the Deep Roads."

It took her a second to recall the last spell she'd cast, but when she did, she laughed too. Elissa was still breathless. It was the first real time she'd used magic without that thing helping her.

It felt _good._

The next part though, she would need its help. She could feel it lurking just under surface level, always watching and always waiting, and as she lifted her arm, strength surged through her veins. With her elbow, she shattered the ice and broke the frozen lock, and her cell swung open.

"What the hell was that?"

It came from somewhere in what she now realized was a huge room. Various cells similar to their own lined the walls, but theirs were the only two that were occupied. She couldn't see any guards in their immediate vicinity, but there was a staircase leading lower into the room, and she had heard that voice.

The sound of chairs being pushed back rose from below, and she swore. Their armor rattled as they ascended the steps and she rushed forward, throwing herself against the stone railing. Alistair pressed up against the bars of his cell, shaking them aggressively, and the guards started walking faster.

Elissa took a couple steps closer, careful to stay behind the railing, and readied herself. Of course there were guards in here. Why wouldn't there be?

She peered around the edge, eyes locking on a chest that hopefully contained their belongings and Alistair's sword, but before she could make a run for it, her vision was obscured by a very thick leg.

"Holy shit!"

The guard jumped as hard as she did, both of them throwing themselves backwards. Elissa was at a disadvantage being on the floor and being unarmed, but he still looked like he was about to soil his drawers.

She scrambled to her feet as they drew their swords. There was no way she was going to be able to protect herself with magic—it took her several seconds to cast a spell, even with the spirit's help, and she didn't even have one second.

The first guard, a man with thick red hair and a beard, charged her, trying to run her through, but she pivoted. She caught his wrist and grabbed his chestplate, using his own momentum to send him stumbling past. The second guard slashed at her throat and she ducked. A quick roll got her into a better position with more space to move, but without a sword, she was fucked.

The bearded man regrouped with his partner before they came at her a second time, at once. She managed to elbow one in the stomach as the other missed her completely, but he was fast, and he whipped around while the non-bearded guard grabbed her by the shoulder.

She felt something sharp pierce her side, heard Alistair yell her name, heard him yell at them to stop.

Then there was a sharp whistle, and the weight behind the sword was torn away. It was ripped from her ribs as the guard was tackled by a dog, a mabari, and the second barely had the chance to turn when an arrow slammed into his throat.

Her knees buckled, but she didn't fall. A pair of arms caught her, eased her down as he crouched with her.

Elissa coughed. She tasted blood.

"Why can't you ever be patient?" a harsh voice demanded.

Elissa tried to focus. It sounded like Aedan, vaguely looked like Aedan. She was slipping. She couldn't feel her fingers and that's when the panic set in. If she hadn't tried to get them out on her own, Aedan would've rescued them less than five minutes later. If she had just relaxed and settled in to wait, she would've had the energy to heal herself now.

He was cradling her. It felt so odd. He was always so protective. It was so impossibly frustrating and Elissa hated it, but she understood, deep down. He didn't want to lose her. She didn't want to lose him. Elissa couldn't imagine what she would do without Aedan, so she understood, but she hated it anyway, and she knew he would be blaming himself for the rest of his life if she died right now.

There was a hand rolling up her shirt, frantically shoving a sticky paste in and over the hole in her side. It would stop the bleeding, but it wasn't going to fix whatever had been damaged inside. Elissa could feel something not right in her stomach, and she wasn't sure if it was the injury or the feeling making her nauseous.

Elissa didn't remember her eyes closing, but someone forced them open. "Can you hear me?" She flinched. Her head was pounding again. It was almost as bad as the pain slowly spreading from her side into everything else. It was getting hard to breathe; all she could taste and smell was blood. "Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

Elissa wasn't even sure if she managed that, but there was a relieved laugh, so she assumed she did.

"Squeeze if you can heal this."

Elissa thought she did. She didn't think she could heal whatever was broken inside of her, but she squeezed anyway, and the next thing she knew, that familiar warmth was spreading throughout her body. It felt like she was being sewed together, and it wasn't even from her own effort.

The warmth reminded her of her blankets at Highever on rainy days, of the sun on her skin as her and Aedan raced across the shores of the Waking Sea, of Leliana when they laid in bed together. It was so comforting and so homely, and she thought for a second that this was what death was like. It wasn't so bad.

But the world came back into focus, and there were three faces staring at her expectantly.

"Are you okay?" Aedan asked.

She coughed once, twice, three times, and rolled onto her side to spit out a mouthful of blood.

"Sister?"

"You should've just let me die," she grumbled.

Aedan let out a sad, broken laugh, and it was enough. It had probably only been seconds that she'd spent in his arms, teetering on the edge of death, but that sound told her how scared he'd been. It told her how broken her death would leave him.

It was unfortunate then that she would have to die. He protected her their entire lives, and when it came down to it, Elissa was going to return all those favors by killing the Archdemon for him. She had to. He was such a good man, such a good brother. The world would be lesser without him.

But the guilt that she felt would eat her away until then.


	36. Chapter 36

Aedan had confirmed it. Between Eamon's list of present nobility and the promises of aid they had both acquired, on top of Anora's support, it would be impossible for Loghain's schemes to continue. Unless everyone suddenly turned against them, there was no way Loghain was winning any votes the Landsmeet ordered. They had done it. Somehow, they had won Ferelden's support.

It should've been cause for celebration. The Landsmeet itself would be little more than a formality, but Elissa couldn't find herself excited or happy. She was dreading the battles to come, dreading the end of this Blight. The more time she spent living, the less she wanted to die, and all it served to do was make her more scared. There was so much she _needed_ to do, so much she still _wanted_ to do.

But that thing inside of her, it didn't seem worried. It was convinced that someone was going to save them. Elissa didn't really understand how or why killing the Archdemon was a death sentence, but she could feel it in her bones. It had to be. You never heard stories of the Wardens living after felling the dragon. You always heard of the Warden miraculously defeating the beast, and then "succumbing to their wounds."

No, killing the Archdemon would kill her. She was sure of it.

The idea of it made her sad. It would be the one thing she was ever worthy of praise for, and it would end her. She was finally starting to understand how to use magic. She was finally starting to understand the thing possessing her. Every little piece of information Elissa managed to get on it left her with more questions than answers, but she knew more now than she did a few weeks ago.

It had lied to her about what it was. It wasn't a spirit, or at least, not one in the normal sense. It had memories, choppy ones, and it felt. It remembered caring about people enough to consider them friends. It remembered helping other people like her, remembered their deaths, remembered her calling on it. It remembered enough from its past lives to be able to give her access to spells and strengths that not even the Circle knew of.

But _why_ did it answer her? Why did it have memories? Why did it have friends? Why did it know these things?

Why her? In the grand scheme of things, who really was she? Just another mage unlucky enough to be born into this world. Just some random person unlucky enough to be recruited into the Grey Wardens. Death came for all no matter of status, so there would be no reason to believe she was chosen because of her heritage.

Who the hell was she?

Elissa felt herself zoning out, eyes glazing over, and she did nothing to stop it. If her brain would shut off, she would welcome it. Maybe she could sleep even—it would be good to rest before the Landsmeet. Spending the entire night awake would be stupid.

She was on the cusp of it, spacing out entirely, but thoughts of the Archdemon and the horde wormed their way into her head. She saw Howe as the spirit broke him to pieces, watched in horror as she was totally convinced she was the one killing him, despite fighting through wounds she didn't even know she had. She could never feel anything happen to her when it consumed her; one of Marjolaine's assassins had shot her with a crossbow bolt, and it had done damage. And it did _nothing_ to slow her down. A few cuts and bruises from Howe wouldn't have stopped her, let alone made any sort of impression.

Behind her, Elissa heard Leliana stir. She'd been there when Aedan came for her and Alistair. She'd been the one to return Elissa's sword and the one to practically carry her out of there. Between being stabbed and casting spells, Elissa had barely been capable of standing, let alone defending herself, and Leliana seemed happy to stay back and protect her.

Aedan didn't seem bothered by it at all. He doted on her whenever she got hurt, but he was perfectly content leaving her be.

He definitely knew something was going on between them. Elissa had teased him about his childhood crush, and Aedan had shot right back with an equally snarky comment. He knew. There was no way he didn't.

A hand reached out for her, resting on the small of her back. "You should sleep."

Leliana sounded so tired. The exhaustion in her voice was so simple and so pure it almost made Elissa cry. Something about the simplicity of it hurt.

Her voice cracked when she spoke. Not only did she feel like she was about to cry, she almost actually did.

"I'm not tired."

Leliana must've picked up on the tone. She was so perceptive. Elissa hated it. It would be so much easier for Leliana to go back to bed and pretend nothing was wrong. It would be so much easier for Elissa to keep all of this from her. It would be so much easier to lie if Leliana didn't care. Why did she have to care?

"What's wrong?"

Elissa swallowed deeply, blinked several times, and took a deep, shuddering breath. "What _isn't_ wrong?"

She felt the bed shift as Leliana sat up. The way she'd dragged her to bed earlier, it was almost possessive, like she'd been scared of something, and thinking about it now sent chills down Elissa's spine.

"Talk to me."

The way she said it, gentle and kind and all too nice for the way Elissa had been lying the last few days, it made her blow up. She was on her feet so fast she didn't remember standing, and the next thing she knew, she had kicked a table so hard the leg snapped.

In her frustration, Elissa found it hard to keep from talking. Every single thing she'd ever lied about, to Leliana or someone else, came spilling from her lips. Every little thing that was causing her so much stress right now—not knowing what was going on with the thing possessing her, seeing shit she wasn't ready to see or know. She felt like she was slipping and losing herself with every passing second of everyday and it was driving her mad. She wasn't even the one who killed Howe and she felt like a fool for believing it was, even for a second. How could she be so dumb?

"I don't know what's happening to me."

Leliana just stared at her for several seconds, and then looked away as she sighed. Elissa wasn't exactly sure what she hoped for or wanted her to say, but that look she just gave her, it hurt. She didn't know what it meant. It was sad, lost almost, and the lack of...whatever she wanted hurt.

"Have you talked to Wynne about any of this?"

Leliana still wasn't looking at her, but Elissa shook her head. "No, I haven't. I tried talking about the dreams once, but she just..." Elissa trailed off, anger and frustration spent, and fell back on the bed. "I don't think the Circle will help. They don't seem to know anything that isn't... I don't know. Normal, I guess?"

"What about Morrigan?"

Elissa shook her head again. "No, I don't trust her."

Leliana simply nodded. The look in her eye now was more thoughtful, less pity and worry. "There's no one who can teach you about any of it, is there?" Another shake of the head, and Leliana sighed. "Someone somewhere must know something about what's happening to you."

Elissa didn't want to disagree, but she got the distinct feeling that no, no one anywhere would have any clue of what was going on with her. It felt too old, too...different, for any of the mages in Thedas to be able to help.

"What about Tevinter?"

Leliana's eyebrows furrowed, and just when Elissa thought she was about to get slapped for suggesting something so stupid and crazy, Leliana said, "That might be the only option you have. It'll be dangerous, but... We could go together, after the Blight. Continue the adventures, hmm?"

Elissa's heart dropped into her stomach. After the Blight. She didn't see how she could do anything after the Blight, not with that thing lording over her head. It was the one thing Elissa hadn't shared, the vision she'd had when they arrived in Denerim. How was she supposed to work that into conversation? How was she supposed to say, "hey, by the way, I'm pretty sure I'm going to die"?

She swallowed. "I...don't know if that's...possible."

"Why?"

She couldn't say it. She couldn't tell her. Every fiber of her being wanted to just spit it out, to just tell her, and yet, the words didn't come. She wanted to tell her. She wanted to so desperately, but Elissa didn't know how to. There was no way Elissa could convey just how frighteningly accurate these dreams could be to make her understand how legitimate her fear was.

Leliana was the first to look away, scrunching her face up as if in pain. "I see."

Elissa panicked. "No, I don't mean whatever you think I mean. It's just..." Leliana barely flicked her eyes back to Elissa's, but there was a hint of suspicion there. "We shouldn't plan for the future when we don't even know if we'll be alive tomorrow."

Her expression softened and the guilt Elissa was beginning to feel intensified. It tightened on her throat.

"Do you not believe in us?" Leliana asked quietly.

How was she supposed to say she did, and that was the entire problem?

Elissa shuddered and hid her face in her hands. Her chest felt so heavy and she felt so nauseous. Breathing was so unbearably hard. She could feel her throat constricting with every breath she took; she could feel tears threatening to roll down her cheeks.

None of this was fair. Why did Leliana have to care for her? Why? Why did Elissa have to care about her? Why did any of this have to happen, only to have the Maker rip it away? It was so cruel, so sickening, and Elissa hated it. Aside from Aedan, Leliana was one of the few good things she'd ever had in her life, and the Maker was going to take it away just as quickly as it came.

Leliana was so strong, so brave, and Elissa knew she could never be like her, no matter how much she tried to be. How did someone look at their lover and put them in the dirt because it was the right thing to do? How did Leliana walk away from that without snapping?

How did she say that there was no way she didn't believe in her brother? He was everything she aspired to be, everything she wanted to be and everything she thought she should be, everything she knew she could be. She was so jealous of him and the life he led, jealous of how perfect he was in every aspect, and never for a second did Elissa ever doubt Aedan would find a way to end the Blight.

Elissa would never doubt Aedan. He was so perfect—failure seemed all but impossible at his side.

No matter what she said, Elissa knew it would be wrong.

"I've seen it, Leli," she whispered. "The end. How can I not believe in us if I know we win?"

Rather than pressing the subject, Leliana didn't seem to care what Elissa claimed. "Then what is it?"

She shook her head. "I can't. I can't tell you."

Leliana's ever-increasing frown only continued to deepen. "I thought we promised not to keep secrets from each other."

Elissa couldn't look at her again. She knew what she would see if she did. Disappointment. Hurt. Confusion. Anger. She deserved all of those things. She just shook her head, and after a few seconds, she heard Leliana sigh before getting out of bed.

Panic struck and Elissa exploded.

"I die, okay?"

She didn't remember standing, didn't remember walking so fast, didn't remember anything that came pouring from her mouth. She was talking, crying, thoughtlessly pleading with anyone and anything listening to save her from this fate. Try as she might, Elissa was terrified. She wasn't ready to die. No matter how many times she told herself she would be okay with it, Elissa was not. She didn't want to lose Aedan, Leliana, Sam, anything.

She wasn't ready to let go. She didn't know how to.

Leliana didn't say a word. They just sat there, now on the floor. Elissa had buried her face in Leliana's shoulder, who appeared perfectly content listening. One of her hands was running up and down Elissa's back in what was a lame attempt at being comforting. It only made Elissa more aware of how nice and pleasant this was, and how desperately she didn't want to lose it.

"I'm so scared," Elissa whispered.

Leliana was quiet for several painfully long seconds. Elissa worried she'd screwed up. She worried saying anything at all ruined any chance she had. She worried Leliana would hate her, though she couldn't exactly understand why her brain drew that conclusion. She worried Leliana would laugh, or mock her for not being brave.

And instead, she just said, "Me too."


	37. Chapter 37

Alistair was always an odd one to Elissa. He deflected any direct questions about himself or his feelings with off-color jokes, which she could understand, and even appreciate, in a sense, but he was never one to really try and hide his feelings on something.

He had made it abundantly clear he wasn't a fan of her from the beginning. He was friendly, sure, and that was more effort than he gave Morrigan, but Alistair could tell she didn't enjoy his presence, so he typically made himself scarce when she was around.

And yet, when Elissa had given herself up to Ser Cauthrien, Alistair didn't hesitate to step forward and go with her. He stood by her side the entire way through Howe's estate, refrained from getting between her and the arl the one time it looked like she might actually need help, and had tried so hard to break himself out of his cell when their guards almost killed her.

It was an odd relationship they had. Words were hardly spoken outside of Aedan's or Leliana's presence. Looks were never exchanged. Nothing ever happened between them, and yet, they kept each other safe when it came down to it.

Elissa wasn't good with words. Alistair wasn't, either. Both of them were bumbling buffoons, tripping and stumbling awkwardly over many encounters with other members of their little party, including the rare few they had together. They shared strange cases of abandonment, though Alistair seemed much more at peace with his own, and didn't seem to have ever harbored a grudge or ill will as a result.

She was older than he, and Alistair, for all his goofiness and silly jokes, was still infinitely more mature than she was.

But he was a good man. He deserved to know she only thought highly of him. Maybe it would sound strange coming from her, or maybe he would vomit like he claimed to every time he saw Morrigan. Maybe he'd laugh in her face. It didn't matter. Whatever strange friendship they had, he deserved to know she appreciated it and appreciated him.

Between her and her fellow Warden, however, was the queen herself.

Elissa wasn't exactly sure how she felt about Anora. She'd never really spent any time with the woman, never really formed an opinion on her, and in another world, Elissa might've been offended by that. In another world, it was likely they would've grown up together in much the same way that Aedan, Cailan, and Anora had. In another world, Elissa might've actually had friends and a social circle, and might've actually been able to tolerate the rest of the nobility.

But here she was, having grown up at home with only her brothers and her father's soldiers and knights, and completely unsure of how she felt about their queen.

"Your Majesty," Elissa mumbled, barely inclining her head, trying desperately to sneak past in search of Alistair.

Anora stepped in her way, holding up a hand to try and stop her. "If we could speak, Warden—"

"I'm busy," Elissa said quickly. "I have things to attend to before the Landsmeet."

Anora squared her shoulders, eyebrows raising, and Elissa realized it wasn't a request. She had phrased it that way out of politeness, not because Elissa really had a choice in the matter, and she reluctantly took a step back so they could talk.

"I wanted to apologize for my...actions at Howe's estate," Anora said. "Truth be told, I panicked, and I wasn't sure how to extract myself from the situation peacefully."

Elissa just shook her head. "I get it. I don't care that you did it, but I understand, and I still don't particularly care. Now if you'll excuse me..."

Elissa wasn't polite in the same way Anora tried to be. She shoved her way past the queen, eyes rolling when she'd passed, but Anora's voice cut her off. "I want to be sure there are no grudges being held between us, Elissa."

Her name on Anora's lips made her skin crawl. Of the two times she had seen Anora in her life, not once had she acknowledged her by name. Sure, Anora had spoken to her one of those two times, and had known who she was, but not once was her name used, and Elissa didn't like the absurdity of it.

And after last night, Elissa didn't feel like she needed the stress of...whatever game Anora was playing.

"There are none, my lady," Elissa said.

"Has Aedan spoken to you recently?" Anora asked. "Of his...suggestion?"

Elissa stiffened and swallowed deeply. So that's what this was about. "No, I don't believe he has." She turned, wiping any emotion from her face. "Is something wrong?"

Anora almost smiled before shaking her head. "No, quite the opposite, I believe. Good day to you, Warden, and good luck."

With that said, Anora turned on her heel and continued down the hall. Elissa remained where she stood for several seconds, eyebrows furrowed as she tried to process this encounter. Elissa didn't understand shit about politics or nobility. She barely understood Anora had been getting at _something_ when she asked if she knew about Aedan's proposal. Had he told her it had been her and Alistair's idea? If he didn't, was Anora really perceptive enough to pick that up?

Probably. Aedan wasn't exactly quiet about hating the idea of being king. He hated it almost as much as Alistair did, but then, at least Aedan had experience in the area. Out of the two, Aedan was far more qualified for the position, and it had been a mutual agreement that it would be the wiser choice. What option did they have, anyway? Ferelden would need a strong leader to get them through the Blight and the years following, and none of them thought Alistair would be capable on his own—you had to _want_ it to some extent to be truly capable of ruling a kingdom, and Alistair definitely did not.

Neither did Aedan, but then, he was the son of a teyrn, and not a bastard.

Leaving Anora to rule alone was just...it didn't sit right with Elissa and both of the men had agreed. It wouldn't be right leaving the traitor's daughter on the throne by herself, but since Cailan became king and they wed, it was painfully obvious who _actually_ ruled Ferelden.

Elissa shook her head, sighing, and returned to her task. Find Alistair. Tell him she appreciated whatever sort of friendship they had, leave before it got too awkward. Just let him know she wasn't like Morrigan. Let him know she was sorry for the way she acted after Ostagar. Let him know she wished she could redo all of this so they could be friends.

Easier said than done.

It was hard enough just...existing in the same space as Leliana, and Leliana understood Elissa in a way she didn't even match. The patience there was so sweet it was almost sickening; there was no way she would be able to tell Leliana something like this, let alone Alistair, but oh, she would try.

Wasn't her biggest gripe with herself not being a good person? This would be a start to fixing that. She didn't want to die like...like she had been. Elissa was better now—calmer, friendlier. She made jokes now.

Eventually, Elissa found him with Aedan, Eamon, and Riordan in Eamon's study. They were discussing the Landsmeet and their plans for afterwards, a conversation Elissa would've found herself part of if she hadn't slept in. She was glad she wasn't part of it though. From the look of absolute boredom on Alistair's face, he didn't want to be part of it, either.

"Hello, sister," Aedan said. "Did you want to join us?"

"No, I'd just like to borrow Alistair for a few minutes, if that's all right."

Alistair nodded eagerly, jumping from his chair with so much enthusiasm she almost laughed. "Maker, yes. Anything to get out of here."

Eamon sighed and Aedan chuckled, and Riordan looked rather indifferent as the two of them retreated back into the hallways. She led him quite a ways away, about as far as she dared from worry Anora might intrude.

"Thank you," Alistair breathed, exasperated. "If I had to sit there for five more minutes, I think my head might've exploded."

She snorted. "Wouldn't be much different from now, would it?"

He laughed, saying, "You wound me, dear lady. Perhaps I should go back—Aedan's nicer."

Elissa giggled, shaking her head, and said, "No, please. It's important and I don't know if I'll be able to tell you later."

"Oh," he said, wiggling an eyebrow. "Juicy gossip, eh? Aedan never wants to talk shit."

"No, it's different. Serious."

His demeanor completely changed, smirk falling flat. "Is something wrong?"

Again, Elissa shook her head. "No, I just... I wanted to apologize."

"What?" He scoffed a bit of a laugh, frown reverting into a confused half-grin, and he asked, "For what?"

"For...everything," Elissa explained, chewing on her lip. She ran her hands down her thighs in a feeble attempt to dry them—there was armor there, chainmail and a jacket, specifically, and it did nothing to help her hands stop sweating. "For the way I treated you after Ostagar. You were mourning, and I was...an asshole. You didn't deserve that and I'm sorry."

Alistair's frown deepened. "Where's this coming from?"

"I don't do a lot of talking, Alistair," Elissa said. "I just sit. And stare. And think about how awful I must've been to be around, and I feel terrible for it."

He shrugged sheepishly. "It's okay, I suppose. Everyone handles things differently, right?"

"No, stop...whatever that is," she said. "You've been a better person throughout all of this. Let me apologize for being shitty and thank you for being...not...like me."

He chuckled. "I won't stop you, then."

For a few seconds, she didn't say anything, and neither did he. And then those seconds turned into minutes, and it felt like those minutes turned into hours.

"I'm not going to lie, I didn't think I'd get this far," Elissa admitted, and Alistair laughed. "No, seriously! I thought I was going to drop dead before I even got one word out. I don't know. I feel terrible for treating you the way I did. I always have, I just... I dunno. I was worried nothing I'd do or say would fix everything that was wrong, and I didn't want to try."

"It's all right," Alistair said. "I don't really get it, but..." He shrugged. "I was pretty resentful and angry as a kid, so..." Another shrug. "Eamon let Isolde ship me off to a monastery when I was ten and I never forgave him for that until recently."

"That must've been terrible," Elissa said.

He shrugged. "I got through it, didn't I? Now I'm a Grey Warden, and I wouldn't be here without Isolde convincing him to get rid of me, so it all worked out in the end."

She nodded. "Yeah, I suppose so."

"I don't think I would want to be anywhere else, anyway," Alistair continued. "Can you imagine me in some chapel in the middle of nowhere?"

"No."

"Exactly!" Alistair said. "I wouldn't be able to take care of my hair. The cheese would be unbearable. All I would have is a nice uniform, but that can't sustain a man! How would I survive?"

Elissa grinned and so did he. "Leliana might disagree. Clothes are everything to her."

"Oh, well, the shoes weren't anything special," Alistair said. "Just brown boots. Very tacky, not tasteful whatsoever."

"That's the deal breaker right there."

They both shared another laugh, allowing a comfortable silence to fall over them, before Elissa sat promptly on the floor. It wasn't a very nice position to be sitting in; her armor, mostly the leather on her shoulders, dug into her skin. Alistair, however, didn't seem bothered by his own armor, and sat without complaint.

"Are you and Leliana..." He made a face. "Y'know..."

Elissa felt her cheeks redden. "No, I don't know."

"Canoodling?"

Elissa scoffed. "No, of course not. We're just...friends."

Alistair snorted and made a face again. "Joke about me being the dumb one all you want, but no one here is stupid enough to believe something isn't going on there."

"There isn't!"

"Okay," Alistair said, getting back up. "If you say so, but just know Zevran and Oghren are taking bets."

" _What?_ "

Elissa scrambled to her feet as Alistair laughed. "I'm joking! I'm joking, I swear." She eyeballed him as he finished chuckling, and he put his hands up, saying, "I promise. I was just curious."

She snorted indignantly. "Well...stop it. There's not...anything, anywhere."

"Oh, I'm sure," Alistair said, nodding exaggeratedly. "Of course not."

Elissa just scoffed again and turned her back on him, marching away with her shoulders hunched in irritation. He was still chuckling, rather proud of himself for his cleverness, and she paused for a moment.

"Alistair?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you give yourself up?"

She turned briefly, just in time to see him shrug. "You would've done the same for me."

It wasn't a question. Alistair stated it as fact, despite the dirty looks she threw him and rude comments she used to make. He knew it was true without even needing confirmation, and for a second, Elissa felt like throwing up.

She would have. If Alistair had been the one being arrested, Elissa would've thrown herself after him without a second thought.

"Thanks, Alistair."

He nodded as he made to return to his meeting. "Of course."

She watched him go, but with one word, she called him back, and wrapped him up in a hug so tight he exaggerated a gasp for air. "Thank you for taking care of my brother when I couldn't."

Alistair hesitated, but then returned the gesture.


	38. Chapter 38

The Landsmeet was upon them. In only a few short hours, the entire fate of Ferelden could be decided. She could be executed in that time. So could Aedan, or Alistair, or any of them. All of them, even. Anora could still pull a fast one and turn at the last second, Loghain could just wait for them to walk into the palace and slaughter them. Anything could go wrong. Something would likely go wrong.

This had gone from a Blight and war with the darkspawn to the early makings of a civil war. Nobles were torn between Teyrn Loghain and the Grey Wardens with average people caught in the middle. They were so busy spouting lies and truths about each other that not only had Loghain forgotten about the very people he claimed to protect, but so had she. She could see it in herself—not once had Elissa truly worried about the refugees fleeing the darkspawn. She could see it in all of them. Aedan, Alistair, Leliana, even Wynne.

They were so exhausted, so focused on the bigger picture that they never stopped to help anyone in need. This mad race to secure their allies had ripped their humanity from them. It had ripped everything from many of them—their family from her and Aedan, the Wardens and Duncan from Alistair, a peaceful life in Lothering from Leliana, the Circle from Wynne. Hell, Morrigan had even lost her home and potentially Flemeth, though part of Elissa doubted she minded too much. When they'd fled the Wilds, Morrigan had seemed reluctant to go, but she still remained.

Ostagar seemed like so long ago. A lifetime had passed between then and now, and when she looked in the mirror, she could barely recognize herself.

Her face was thinner. Any trace of fat from her life at Highever was gone and replaced with muscle. What was once pale skin was now sunburnt and tanned. Even her hair had changed, having only been cut to such a short and surprisingly manageable length a few days prior. It felt odd not having the weight of her braid on her shoulders; Elissa couldn't even remember the last time her hair had been in a bun. She couldn't remember the last time it didn't look like she just rolled out of bed, or the last time she had truly looked and felt clean.

She had always thought she'd had a hard life. Being confined to your home would do that, but then, her home was far better than many people could've ever dreamt of. She never went hungry, never wondered when her next meal would come, never froze at night. And even if she could never fully come to terms with her parents' treatment of her magic, Elissa still had more there than so many.

This was the first real hardship she had ever encountered in life. They—mostly Leliana and Morrigan—would have to hunt for their meals. Sovereigns were hard to come by and had to be taken from the corpses of the people they'd just killed. Injuries couldn't be given rest and time to heal, not if they wanted to stay ahead of the Blight. Sleep couldn't be taken for granted. Any time that wasn't spent worrying over where they would go next and what they would do couldn't be wasted. Swords needed sharpening and cleaning, armor needed hammered into previous positions, and clothes needed sewed back together.

Elissa slacked on a lot of those things. She had been wearing the same shirt for three days now because there was a hole where she'd been stabbed in her other. Her shield still sported dents from their encounter with the cultists guarding the Ashes. Even her sword was lacking in care, though she suspected one of the enchantments in the blade was protecting it from too much damage. She hadn't sharpened it since Aedan gave it to her and the blade could still cut through flesh and bone.

There were so many other things to do. Practice casting spells, mostly, but she still wasn't anywhere near as good at it as Morrigan or Wynne were, and that just left her feeling like it was a waste.

Elissa swallowed. _No._ She had come a long way. Little things she could do herself. Freezing bits of water, even conjuring ice on her own, but most of the spells she casted didn't come from her. It came from that thing that presented itself as an elf. When she would be just fast enough to step away from a blow, or strong enough to throw a larger man's sword off of hers, when she had to heal her own wounds. It was never Elissa, never her protecting herself. It was always that thing, exerting its power.

In some ways, Elissa worried she would never come into her own. She worried she spent too much time on being hateful and resentful. She worried she would never be the source of her magic and spells, and worried that that thing would always have to protect her.

But then, there wasn't going to be much time left for worrying about that, was there? Whether she died at the Landsmeet or with the Archdemon, Elissa seriously doubted she had much longer in this world. She couldn't imagine life after the Blight. She couldn't imagine life where she wasn't following her brother across the country, or a life where he wasn't such a presence. If he became king, she would likely never see him, and then, where would she even end up?

They had talked about this briefly. Elissa said she wanted to sail. It had been the truth—she always enjoyed the beaches and cliffs on the coast. She loved the water and the seemingly infinite expanse the Waking Sea presented. As a teenager, Elissa would often imagine sailing across to the Free Marches. She used to dream of the people there and what it would be like in a totally new country. The idea of new places and different people had always intrigued her growing up.

Perhaps Leliana was onto something when she mentioned Tevinter. It was the only place in Thedas that didn't actively look down on mages and magic, and likely the only place in Thedas that might have any idea of what was going on with her. She was possessed. For all intents and purposes, Elissa was an abomination, but the spirit holding her wasn't evil or vengeful. It just...was. Its only true interest seemed to be protecting her.

Elissa didn't even know where her abilities ended and the spirit's began. Morrigan had called her a dreamer once, but then, was that even something Elissa was capable of, whatever it meant? Was that truly her, or was it like the elven magic it gave her the ability to use? Was it something she could do without it, or was she dependent on the spirit for everything?

With one final look in the mirror, Elissa straightened and sighed. She could barely recognize herself, and she wasn't sure she wanted to anymore. She didn't know who she was, so why try to give a face to the person she _thought_ she was?

There were so many better things she could spend these few hours doing. She could sit with Leliana. She could sit with Alistair. Hell, she could sit with Aedan, her own brother, that she put on a pedestal, and then never interacted with. Did Elissa even know him anymore? Did she _ever_ know him? They were _twins_ and Elissa didn't think she knew anything about him. She didn't think he knew anything about her.

They were twins, but that meant nothing when they treated each other like strangers.

As children, they were inseparable. Wherever one went, so did the other. When Aedan began learning how to use a sword, so did Elissa. When she began practicing the "finer" arts, so did Aedan.

The older they got, though, the further apart they'd grown. The older they got, the clearer it became that Aedan was the ideal child, the one their father would groom to be his heir, and the clearer it became that Elissa was turning into an afterthought. Bryce would take Aedan and Fergus to the various places he visited across Ferelden, whereas Elissa would remain at Highever with Eleanor.

When Bryce assigned Aedan to watching over Highever while he and Fergus marched to Ostagar, Aedan hadn't been the only one that was surprised. In his own strange way, it was almost as if Bryce was trying to protect Aedan from the Blight.

Who was Aedan? Who was Aedan to her? A brother or an overwhelming shadow she couldn't get out from under?

Who was she to Aedan? A sister or some unhinged child playing at maturity?

Again, she found herself staring into the mirror, but she walked away. Why did it matter? There was a good chance she was going to die regardless of who and what she was. It was extremely likely it would never matter.

But what if she didn't die? What if she somehow survived defeating the Archdemon, or Maker forbid, Aedan or Alistair died instead? _Who was she?_

Was she an abomination? Was she an apostate? Was she a disgraced noble? Was she a Grey Warden? Who was Elissa Cousland?

Her nose wrinkled at the sight of her armor. It was everything she had ever seen in books, the very thing she saw one of the Wardens wearing at Ostagar. It was a blue uniform with silver lining, mostly comprised of leathers and chainmail to suit her smaller size and perceived inability to wear a real suit of armor. A griffon was emblazoned on the chestplate, so intricately woven with both itself and the metal that it belonged anywhere but a battlefield, and another, smaller one was beaten into the leather she wore over her shoulders.

Was that who she was? A Warden?

It felt so wrong. Wardens were supposed to be heroes, men and women who would stop at nothing to protect Thedas and its people from the darkspawn. Elissa wanted to stop the Blight, yes, but she would've never willingly put herself in this position.

Apostates and abominations were supposed to be evil beings worth little more than a killing blow. Was she evil to have delivered Dagna's message to the First Enchanter on their way back to Redcliffe?

Nobles were supposed to care only about their power and wealth. Elissa had never taken much advantage of her status, so could she truly miss it?

Where did she belong, if not with any of them?

Why couldn't she just be Elissa? Why did she feel _what_ she was affect _who_ she was?

Putting her armor on was almost a ritual for her. She could lose herself in the intricate clasps and buckles, forget the outside world for even just a few minutes, and just work. She was good at this. Good at remembering the precise order she should be putting each pad on, good at remembering the exact angle she liked having a certain buckle sit so it wouldn't chafe.

Elissa could spend the rest of her days dressing and undressing, and be perfectly content doing so.

Her sword was sat next to her clothes, and for the first time in a long time, she sat to inspect it. He had shown it to them once, their father. All their ancestors had wielded this sword at one point, against varying foes and into every battle imaginable. The last time it had seen war, Bryce had carried it himself against the Orlesians, and now she carried it against the darkspawn. It had seen every kind of evil the world could possibly imagine. It had been alive longer than any single person, and yet, here it sat, perfectly clean and undamaged despite its lack of care.

She pulled it free of its scabbard. It wasn't anything special—just leather worked plainly to keep it safe. The sword itself was just as plain and simple as the scabbard, and for everything her father had told her about this thing, she had expected...more.

A small laurel was etched into the pommel, but aside from that, there was nothing to distinguish this as the sword of one of the most powerful families in Ferelden. The pommel and cross-guard were made of tinted bronze, and the grip was just the same vein of steel that made the blade. It didn't even sport a rain guard, just one long groove with dull enchantments blazing away.

What those runes did were lost to time, but Elissa would wonder every time she looked at the thing. It was so simple and yet so deadly, and in its own way, it was quite beautiful. It was just so simple that it didn't make sense.

She shouldn't have this weapon. Aedan deserved it. He was his father's son. He cared about his family and his name, whereas Elissa just...didn't. She regretted the way she acted towards her family, yes, and mourned the lost opportunities they had, but in the end, what did she really lose?

Nothing. Aedan lost everything. This sword was his legacy and she was the one who carried it.

Elissa frowned and shoved it back into the scabbard. As she stood, she belted it on around her waist, and marched out the door. No matter what happened at the Landsmeet, Elissa could rest easy knowing this would be over soon.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there's some uh...heavy smut in here lol

She didn't bother being confused. She understood. She understood every possible thing Aedan could've thought of. She understood his decision more than she wanted to admit. Loghain was a great warrior. He was a hero, _the_ hero in Ferelden, and there was no logical reason to sentence the man to death.

Aside from the blatant act of _treason_ he'd committed. He had betrayed Cailan. He'd betrayed their father. He'd betrayed the Wardens. He'd betrayed everyone he'd ever bled for, because he thought he was doing what was right. So many countless people were dead because of Loghain's actions, and yet, just as many, if not more, were alive because of him.

There were three of them originally, four with Riordan. Blights were stopped with hundreds of Grey Wardens fighting their way to the Archdemon. Hundreds of them died just trying to get to the dragon. With three, it was an impossible task. Four was still questionable, but five?

She swallowed past a disgusted lump in her throat. There was no way this was happening.

But it was, and Elissa didn't think Alistair would ever forgive Aedan for it. She wasn't sure if she could, much less than the man who'd lost everything. If Elissa had been the one to make the decision, she would've executed him right there, right in front of his daughter, right in front of the entire Landsmeet.

She didn't care who Loghain was, who he had been. She didn't care that this was the man she and every other Fereldan owed their lives to. She didn't care about any of it.

But Fereldans would, commoners and nobility alike, and Aedan would do whatever it took to rally the nation behind them.

What a dutiful son.

Her mouth soured, and it was everything she had to keep from throwing up. Loghain didn't deserve to become a Warden. He didn't deserve more than a traitor's death, and here he was, being bestowed an honor not even she had been worthy of.

What a dutiful husband.

She understood how it would look, killing the teyrn, and then deciding to marry Anora. It would look like a power grab, an advantageous move from a resentful child. Nothing would rock his position like that.

What a dutiful king.

It had taken everything, every social skill and grace she might've had, to convince Alistair to stay. He wouldn't speak to Aedan no matter how desperately her twin begged him to understand. It had fallen to her and only by the grace of the Maker Himself did she think it worked.

_"Is this what Duncan would've wanted from you?"_

Is this what he would've wanted from any of them? Aedan, stepping his nose into Ferelden's politics when Wardens were supposed to be a neutral party. Alistair, turning his back when the Wardens needed him most. Loghain, the very man who betrayed them at Ostagar.

If there was ever a time to drink, it was now, before they marched back to Redcliffe, before they assembled their army, before everything went to shit.

None of it seemed real. They weren't here. This wasn't happening. The Landsmeet was little more than another vision in her head, and they were still all the way back on that mountain, cowering in their tents and the ruins while the cold ripped at them. The dragon's carcass reeked, glimmered in the firelight, cast odd shadows over the gravel and snow.

And that wasn't real, yet another dream, playing out while she slept in her bed at Highever.

Elissa gulped. It was real. This was her reality. Highever was gone to her. She would never set foot there again; she would rather die. Ostagar was lost, Lothering and countless other villages were gone. Towns were smoking ruins as they passed, victims to pockets of darkspawn disappearing as quickly as they came.

And their ability to protect them, or at the very least, avenge them, came from allying with the very man who caused this.

There was no way to know if Ostagar would've been a victory if Loghain had stuck to the plan. There was just the certainty of knowing that his retreat had cost them dearly. The king was dead, Ferelden's army was dead, the Grey Wardens were dead.

Would Loghain following through have done anything? The Archdemon hadn't been at Ostagar. Would his death have been better, preferable to this outcome?

The confusion and anger from Alistair would've been preferable. She hated understanding why Aedan recruited Loghain. She hated it. It made her sick. It was so...dishonorable. It felt like a disservice to Duncan and the Wardens, the same people who saved them from Loghain and Howe. It felt...dirty.

Just a few hours ago, she had been at peace with the chaos. She had been prepared for the Landsmeet. If they somehow lost, which would've been a miracle in itself, their deaths would've been a relief. If they won, they could continue on. It was how she expected things to go, but this...it was something else.

She wanted so desperately to sneak out of their room and get drunk somewhere. She wanted to get so drunk that she couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't feel. The kind of drunk where you woke up in an alley that reeked of piss and shit. The kind of drunk that made you hate yourself even more than you had to to get yourself into that situation.

But something kept her in bed. Elissa didn't want to think about it, no matter how painfully obvious it was. She didn't want to think about Leliana right now. She couldn't. It felt even worse than allowing Aedan to recruit Loghain, felt dirtier and wrong. Leliana was so good to her, so kind and gentle, and what did Elissa give in return?

She wasn't in the right head space to be with this woman. In no way did Leliana deserve the stress she was sure she put on her. She didn't deserve Elissa's selfishness. She didn't deserve Elissa's temper, or her attitude, or her negativity.

How had it come to this? Hadn't Elissa hated Leliana from the moment she joined them? Hadn't she annoyed her endlessly? How had Leliana's facade and lies become real? How did Elissa let this happen? How had either of them allowed this to happen? They were both smarter than this.

Elissa couldn't help herself. Leliana looked so peaceful, so relaxed. Even when she had a blank face, Leliana's eyebrows were always creased ever so slightly. She was always thinking, always planning, always studying. She was so careful, so thoughtful, and Elissa wasn't sure if that was something that should impress her or make her sad. It showed how on edge Leliana was, how little she truly trusted people, and yes, it did make Elissa sad.

She would do anything to take that pain away from her.

She reached over to brush the hair from her eyes. Part of Elissa expected Leliana to wake at the slightest touch, but she didn't. The bard's eyes remained closed, breathing even and steady. Was that a testament to the faith Leliana had in her, or was it just how tired she was?

Probably the latter. Elissa had almost killed her once. She wouldn't trust anyone who tried to kill her—that was the main reason she avoided Zevran unless otherwise forced, and that was the main reason she would never trust Loghain, Warden or no.

Elissa didn't know how to give back to Leliana. She didn't know how to do any of this, and Leliana somehow didn't seem to care. This...affair of theirs, it felt extremely one sided, regardless of how much Elissa cared for her.

She did. Elissa knew she did. She could feel it every time she saw Leliana. Every smile, every laugh, was infectious; the way her heart skipped whenever she was the one that smile was for, the way it still did, months later, was almost laughable. Most of her thoughts when she was idle were of the bard, or worked there way to her eventually. She couldn't _stop_ thinking about Leliana no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't stop thinking about the way Leliana's lips felt, or how good her touch made her feel.

She couldn't stop thinking about how terrifying it had been to watch that man smash his hammer into her head. She couldn't stop thinking about the panic that set in almost immediately, or the fact that Leliana had been rather openly flirting with her literal seconds before. She couldn't stop thinking about all the blood and how frantically she'd tried to stop the bleeding.

She couldn't stop thinking about the first time they'd laid like this. Leliana had made up some excuse, bad dreams, to get Elissa to stay in her tent. It had been the only time since that Elissa had been the one to hold Leliana; the bard seemed to prefer holding Elissa when they went to sleep, and Elissa wouldn't argue. She felt safe wrapped up in Leliana's arms.

She couldn't stop thinking about their first kiss. How stupid and silly it was, how ridiculous they had both been. It made her cringe and made her heart soar. It was so childlike. It made her giddy, almost, made her grin like an idiot.

She couldn't stop thinking about the desperation in her when Leliana shoved her into her bed. The hungry kisses had been almost possessive. It had made something inside Elissa coil and burn like never before. It made her want to... Elissa didn't know. It was different from the times she'd slept with people before. Before, it had been for fun when she was bored and had nothing else to do. Before, she had been assured it couldn't become more—it had always been with a servant or a guard, stolen moments when her parents weren't looking, with people she knew would never be allowed to claim her.

Now her parents were gone. This wasn't some servant or soldier she could just order away; this was someone she cared for, someone she wanted and desired as desperately as a beggar desired food.

They hadn't. One of them always pulled away and stopped before they could start. Once in Orzammar, twice at camp. Both times at camp it had been Elissa; she was terrified. She'd never had sex with someone she _actually_ cared for. It was always just a means to an end, and this...this would mean something to both of them. Elissa didn't know what that something would be for either of them.

Oh, but Maker, did she want it. Try as she might to deny it, Elissa wanted it. She wanted to rip Leliana's clothes off every time they had a moment to themselves. She wanted Leliana to throw her around and fuck her until she couldn't think; she was a bard, after all, and Elissa didn't doubt Leliana would be a far more experienced lover than she. The thought of it excited her in ways she didn't want to admit.

"What sort of thoughts could turn your cheeks so pink?"

Elissa almost shot straight out of her skin. At some point, she had rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling, and sometime between now and her rolling over, Leliana had woken up.

Elissa cleared her throat. "N-nothing."

Leliana arched one, fine brow, and by the looks of her lips, she was trying not to laugh. Elissa forced her eyes elsewhere, blush spreading down her neck, and she gulped again. The blanket shifted as Leliana edged closer—they always rolled onto opposite sides of whatever bed they were in after falling asleep.

A hand snaked its way over Elissa's stomach. It took every ounce of effort Elissa had to not squirm as Leliana pulled them closer. Every. Ounce.

That same hand flicked under her shirt, tracing patterns on her stomach, and that forsaken feeling started coming back.

She could feel Leliana's breath on her jaw, right below her ear. Her voice sent shivers down Elissa's spine. "What happened to no more secrets?"

Elissa gulped as she twisted to look the bard in the eyes, emboldened by some unknown force. "Leli—" That damned hand of hers had been tracing up towards her chest, but now it shot back down, pausing at her bellybutton before descending towards the hem of her pants. Elissa's breath hitched and Leliana's hand left as quickly as it came, returning to the nonsensical twists over her ribs.

"Yes, dear one?" Her voice was thick, but the words still rolled off her tongue like liquid velvet. Elissa could listen to her talk for hours and never tire.

Her fingers lifted, now light but so frustratingly erotic, into even softer strokes. Elissa must've made a face, as the corners of Leliana's mouth quirked into the most delicious grin.

"Stop it," Elissa said breathlessly.

"Stop what?" Leliana asked, feigning innocence. "Touching you?" Lower again, now almost tugging at the waistband. Elissa nodded impatiently, momentarily forgetting what was just said, and with a smug smirk, Leliana removed her hand entirely.

She pouted. "Not fair."

"I only did as you asked," Leliana replied.

The frustration was unbearable. Every inch of skin Leliana had touched was on fire, craving, begging for more, and Elissa didn't know if she could take rolling over and going to bed. She needed this, needed her, _now._

Unable to formulate anything other than an annoyed grunt, Elissa decided she would just take what she wanted. In one deft movement, she had managed to get Leliana on top of her, and without a moment's hesitation, she pulled her down into a searing kiss Leliana was all too eager to return.

No other urging was needed. Leliana's hands roamed freely over Elissa's torso, alternating between gentle caresses and impatient tugs at her shirt. She wanted to savor this, the insatiable hunger, but every time Leliana's hands ghosted over her breasts, Elissa thought she might finish right then and there.

When the need for air became to pertinent, Leliana shifted focus to Elissa's jaw, peppering it with hot, wet kisses, and in a moment of clarity, Elissa managed, "Didn't you...j-just...wake up?"

Leliana hummed, pulled away for a brief moment. Whatever had caused her to hesitate was gone immediately; she nipped at Elissa's ear, drawing out a groan of need. Elissa could feel that damn smirk on Leliana's lips as she kissed her way down her neck.

"I had a very nice dream," Leliana whispered.

Leliana's lips found their way to her collarbone. Elissa held her there, hand weaving through soft tresses, and said, "About?"

Without warning, Leliana pulled away, but before Elissa could complain or protest, she had her sit up and practically tore her shirt off. Leliana threw her back against the pillows just as quickly, returning to her ministrations. Elissa kept guiding her lower, breath quickening the closer Leliana's mouth got to her breasts.

"You might've been there," Leliana said absentmindedly. The bard's eyes roamed over Elissa without fear, drinking in the sight of her Warden beneath her. "Tu es magnifique, mon amour."

"I don't know what that means," Elissa said.

Leliana's smile was so beautiful. It made Elissa's heart flutter, stoked the fire in her. "I'll tell you someday. For now..." She came up to capture Elissa's mouth in a kiss, tongue probing at her lips until Elissa let her in. She'd never kissed someone like this before, and it became increasingly obvious as she floundered, but Leliana didn't seem to care. She drank in everything Elissa allowed, and before long, Elissa was tugging at her shirt just as impatiently as Leliana had been with hers.

In one deft movement, Leliana rid herself of the offending fabric and pressed herself even closer than before, close enough that their breasts rubbed together. The feeling of Leliana's skin on hers... Elissa was glad Leliana swallowed any sounds she made.

"Leli...please..."

More Orlesian poured from her lips as she descended again. Her hand fell between them as she kissed and whispered, rubbing and teasing Elissa's thighs. Elissa could come just from this. Leliana's voice was so hot, her breath so warm, and Elissa was such a needy mess just from a few kisses.

"Fuck," Elissa moaned. "Leli, please...I need you. _Please._ "

Leliana hooked a finger around the hem of her pants, and then slowly pulled them down off her hips. Elissa tried to shimmy her way out of them, but Leliana was being deliberate, and she wasn't getting out of her trousers any sooner than the bard wanted her to.

When they were finally gone, Leliana paused. She looked Elissa in the eyes, leaned down to kiss her stomach, and then beneath her bellybutton, and then a hip bone, purposely maintaining eye contact for every second of it. Elissa squirmed, bucked her hips in a silent plea for release. This was torture.

Another kiss, right above the tuft of hair. Another, right on it. Another, so close and yet so far away. Elissa forced her head lower, tangling back up in Leliana's hair, while Leliana forced her to spread her legs. Again, a pause despite Elissa's urgings. Everything she did was deliberate, intended to drive her crazy, and Maker, was she good at it.

And then, without warning, Leliana began to devour her. Elissa cried out in surprise and relief, hips twitching in delight. Now that she had her, Elissa wasn't going to let go, and with every lick, every stroke, Elissa thrusted into Leliana's mouth.

No one she'd been with at Highever could compare to this, man or woman. Leliana's tongue worked her in a way she'd never experienced. So soft, so hot. She felt so good.

It took everything Elissa had to not come when Leliana's fingers plunged into her. She thrusted in time with Elissa's erratic spasms, curved her fingers inside of her so deliciously. She'd never felt so fulfilled, so full, even with the gifted men she'd bedded. Leliana was so good at fucking, and Elissa was more than happy to let her work.

When she began hearing moans from Leliana, when she realized the bard was fucking them both at the same time, Elissa saw stars. She tumbled over the edge with a cry, grinding on Leliana's mouth wildly. Only, when Elissa was finished, Leliana didn't stop. Her tongue shot faster over that bundle of nerves, her fingers pressed into the rough patch harder. She came again, and again, and again, only being allowed off the hook when Leliana's own orgasm tore through her.

As they finally collapsed in a tangle of limbs, Leliana planted one gentle kiss on Elissa's cheek, whispered, "Je t'aime," and fell back asleep.

There was no question what she said. Elissa knew. Elissa understood, far better than she understood Aedan's decision from today, what Leliana meant, and while it terrified her, she never felt safer.

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY


	40. Chapter 40

Mere seconds had passed. _Seconds._ Elissa was still in the process of getting comfortable, muscles still twitching, when a knock at the door forced her to disentangle herself from Leliana and get dressed. She was reluctant to leave, but Leliana was out already, and this was _her_ room, not the bard's.

As the door swung open, Elissa would be lying if she said she wasn't disappointed and disgusted to see Loghain standing there. He was there, alive, which meant he had survived the Joining, and that yes, there would indeed be five Wardens from here on out.

Past his shoulder, Elissa could see Aedan rousing the others. They must be leaving.

"When?" Elissa asked, gaze returning to the pair of gray eyes locked on her. She kept the door closed, careful about just how much of her room she let the man see.

"An hour."

Elissa didn't say anything else. She just closed the door, sat solidly on the edge of her bed, and stared. Stared at her pile of armor, her sword, her shield. Two groups she was finally coming to terms with, two things she was finally coming to have faith in, and they had both betrayed her. Her brother, with his recruitment of Loghain, and the Wardens, again with Loghain.

Without hesitation, Elissa removed the necklace around her throat. She wanted to smash it. She wanted to remove as much of herself from the Wardens as possible, and yet, even as she mentally prepared herself to cut her hands open, Elissa found herself unable to follow through.

Frustrated, she stowed the amulet in her pack.

* * *

There was something comforting about being on the move again. Elissa felt safer in their camps than she did in Denerim; she trusted the people here. In the city, there were so many strangers, so many dangerous corners. Here, she knew who to avoid, which was everyone aside from Leliana and Alistair, at this rate.

The three of them had turned into their own group practically overnight. Tents were pitched away from the main party, though nowhere near as far as Morrigan's. The three of them sat together, ate together, walked together.

While Elissa suspected Leliana didn't approve of Aedan's decision with Loghain, she never voiced her disagreement, and seemed content to join Elissa and Alistair in their disenfranchisement. Very little words were actually spoken between any of them, but there was an agreement there—that they were only here because it was the right thing to do.

Elissa had once entertained the idea of up and leaving. Just once. Aedan had brought it up so long ago with her and Alistair, and Alistair had said he could never do that. Elissa had wanted to. She wanted nothing to do with any of this. She'd never seen herself outside of Highever, never wanted more or expected any different, and while she might have wanted to run away, she knew she couldn't.

She was scared of being away from her brother. She was scared of having to think for herself.

It was why she remained when he announced he'd recruit Loghain. It was why she remained when she felt so lost. Where else could she go?

She sighed, lamely tossing a twig into the smoldering embers of their campfire. She was tired, but it was her watch shift with Oghren, and the dwarf was sitting in front of his tent, nursing his flask. Elissa couldn't trust the man to put his alcohol away; how could she trust him to keep his eyes open?

As she stifled a yawn, chills shot down her spine. She shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, eyes flicking up to the sky. Dawn was approaching—that early morning grayness was creeping up on them, but it was hard to tell where exactly the sun was with all the clouds. A storm was coming.

Another shiver, and faintly, just towards the road, Elissa thought she heard a twig snap. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam lift his head up, turned towards the offending noise.

Her sword was only a few inches away, resting against the log she was leaning on. Her fingers sought it out slowly. She didn't want to make too much noise and break Sam's concentration, or her own. The mabari's eyes were better in the dark, but that didn't stop Elissa from wanting to know what she heard.

Nothing was moving. It seemed as if the trees and shrubs had quieted despite the gentle breeze, almost as if something was willing them to silence.

There it was again, except it sounded...heavier? It was a familiar noise, but Elissa couldn't quite place it. It almost sounded like...

The next thing Elissa knew, she was face-down in the grass as a bolt from a crossbow whipped overhead. She watched as it ripped through the top of Wynne's tent and disappeared into the night.

"Ancestor's ass!"

Elissa scrambled to her feet, grabbing her sword and ripping her scarf off her face as she went, and yelled, "Ambush!"

Her shield was in her tent. Another bolt zipped past, this time closer than the first, and she pulled up short to avoid it. So abrupt was the change that her momentum hit her in the chest and she fell backwards. Elissa threw herself in the opposite direction in hopes that the shadows from Leliana's tent would protect her from getting shot, but all it did was draw their shots towards them both. This time, a pair tore through the fabric, both missing, and landed with a solid thunk in Aedan's shield as he emerged from his tent.

A scream split the air as one of Leliana's arrows fired blindly into the night. Oghren barrelled after it, straight into three men belting out war cries.

Elissa blinked, pushing the shock aside, and rushed after him, forgoing her shield in favor of helping the dwarf. He brought his axe around in a low arc and stopped just short of them; the two elves were lucky enough to dodge the blow, but the human had his stomach ripped open wide enough Elissa could see his guts begin to spill out.

She was at Oghren's side the same instant, leaping between the elf's sword and the dwarf as he put the man out of his misery. Their swords collided with a screech almost as deafening as the screaming. The elf recoiled as Elissa stepped closer, putting Oghren at her back, and once he seemed to have finished his kill, they split. He charged for the elf on the right, she the left.

He stabbed at her ribs with a dagger; Elissa smacked it away with enough force to send it flying from his grasp. She pivoted, using her momentum to throw her sword cleanly through his throat.

The sound of a sword cutting through air made Elissa spin. She caught the blow just before it connected with her shoulder. Just as she managed to throw him off, an arrow pierced his neck and Alistair caught another strike aimed for her back. The offender soon found Alistair's sword buried in her chest.

"Stop!" The command was issued again in what Elissa assumed was Antivan, followed rapidly by another sentence. She caught one word from it—Zevran.

Several men with crossbows emerged from the edges of Elissa's vision, with more spreading across their camp. There were at least twelve of them, maybe more. They were surrounded.

"What the hell is this?" Loghain demanded.

"These would likely be the men you hired to kill us," Alistair snapped.

Elissa searched the faces rounded up in the camp. Morrigan was nowhere to be seen, and it didn't appear as if any of the men had noticed her separate camp, nestled so far into the treeline that the only way Elissa knew it was there was prior knowledge.

"Ah, yes," Zevran said. "I would like to report my failure in that, but...let us see if the second time is the charm, no?"

Elissa would be lying if she said she hadn't suspected it. She could feel her very veins buzzing, alight with a power she had so little control over, and as her eyes fell on their elven companion, she caught sight of him smearing a sticky green paste over his curved dagger.

_Poison._

There was something so beautiful, so _relaxing,_ knowing that no one here posed a threat to her. It was so very reassuring, and if Elissa wasn't careful, if she succumbed to this, it might create an ego she didn't need.

Zevran's hand had hardly left the tip of his dagger when Elissa was there, between him and her brother, battering the weapon aside even as the world came back into focus. Every time she did this, she was able to hold it longer, able to slow her surroundings for just long enough before it slipped away.

Who needed conventional spells when they could do what she did?

There was a ripple in the air and a thud as a raven landed sharply on the ground, transforming immediately into that of a cave spider. Zevran's dagger finally hit the grass, and even as it fell, Elissa felt herself release the magic before she wanted to, and the elf had yet another dagger pulled, launching into a flurry of blows.

Chaos erupted around them.

All of those crossbows fired in time with her slamming into Zevran—the bolts were caught in perhaps the most fascinating display Elissa had ever seen from Wynne, but she was quickly reminded that a certain elf was trying to murder her, _again,_ and she returned to the task at hand.

One blow, a feint, towards her stomach was easily slapped aside, and the follow-up towards her chest was easily dodged. It was a dangerous dance, one Elissa had never truly practiced with a foe like Zevran, but one she knew she would excel at. It was all about speed—who could slip past the other's defenses first, who could land the first strike, fatal or not.

Several of the more physically gifted Crows rushed through Wynne's ward, directly engaging with her companions. There weren't many; between their own martial skills, Leliana's arrows, and Morrigan's fangs, those that were brave enough quickly found themselves either engaged with a qunari, a drink dwarf, an ex-templar, or a general. Those that didn't make it that far found themselves otherwise occupied with arrows or Sam's jaws.

Rather than assist their companions, Aedan chose to battle with Zevran as well. Between the two of them, not even Zevran truly stood a chance. He was skilled, tore through darkspawn and common bandits as easily as the rest of them, but his only advantage here was the close quarters. Elissa and Aedan had fought side-by-side for months, trained together even longer, and knew when to step in to give the other a reprieve, or when the other had Zevran distracted enough for a good attempt.

Somewhere, so very faint over the sounds of battle, Elissa heard a horn. At first it was just one, but then another, and another, and then she watched as the Crows began to get cut down from an unknown assailant. Arrows upon arrows, so Maker-forsaken many that they never stood a chance.

Wynne sagged and the ward fell, and suddenly, those arrows that were a saving grace were a threat.

Zevran lunged at her, and Elissa jumped, spooked, before swiping her blade between them. The pommel of her sword locked with the tips of his dagger, effectively jammed, and it was a wonder Aedan managed to get his sword in the way of Zevran's second knife without hitting her.

With both of them bearing down on him, Zevran opted to drive his knee into Elissa's stomach, disengage entirely, and refocus on Aedan while she recovered. She lost grip on her sword in the process, lungs wheezing for air they couldn't get, and staggered out of the way.

They clashed as Elissa regained her footing and her breath, and she threw herself straight back into the fray with a renewed vigor. It was impressive how long he held them off, Elissa had to give him that much credit. But if he was willing to pull dirty tricks, so was she, and she stepped in so dangerously close that she was more likely to be killed by Aedan and not Zevran. She drove her foot into his ankle, shoved with her shoulder. As he stumbled, Elissa ducked, and Aedan slit his throat.

Zevran stood for a moment, obviously in shock, as his daggers fell from his grasp. Blood seeped from his fingers, clutching at his throat in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding.

And as he fell to his knees, Elissa turned to her brother and said, "Didn't I tell you he'd try to kill us?"

Aedan just looked at the elf in disgust. "You said the same thing about Leliana." The corner of his mouth almost turned up, _almost,_ and he said, "You seem to like her just fine."

Elissa sputtered, eyes briefly falling to the man at their feet, and then she looked back to her brother. "That's just cold."

Aedan rolled his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "He doesn't deserve better than that."

Around them, their friends were dealing with the last of the Crows. It quickly became apparent that their rescuers were none other than the clan of Dalish elves they had cured all those months ago; the very same woman that had greeted them before was marching her way rather purposefully through their camp right now. Mithra, if Elissa remembered correctly.

Aedan inclined his head respectfully, as did Elissa, and surprisingly enough, the elf as well. She hadn't been pleased to see them the first time, or pleased any of the other times, but she seemed...amicable enough, if that was even how Elissa could think of it.

"What are you doing here?" Aedan asked.

"One of you shems found our camp a little over a week ago," Mithra said. "He said you were assembling your army at Redcliffe, so the Keeper sent us ahead of the clan to join you. She says the other clans will be joining us shortly."

One of the Dalish, a young man Elissa didn't recognize, came up to them, whispered something in their language Elissa didn't quite catch, and Mithra grimaced.

"It would seem your settlement is under attack as we speak." Aedan and Elissa both frowned, and she added, "By darkspawn. A horde large enough it could be a scouting party."

"Do you think the Archdemon would lead the horde this way?" Elissa asked.

Aedan shook his head, frown deepening. "No, the darkspawn have spread mostly north into the Bannorn. Villages to the west, there haven't been reports of darkspawn here yet."

"It matters little. There are darkspawn in the area and we have been tasked to follow you, Grey Warden."

"To Redcliffe, then."


	41. Chapter 41

Where was she?

Aedan looked around wildly, green eyes searching, begging, hoping, praying, that he would see his sister somewhere in the fray. She had been by his side a moment ago, wordless as ever, but unerringly loyal.

He had known what taking Loghain on would mean. The man was a traitor; Aedan had no doubt about it. He had been there to witness the betrayal himself and he had no misguided preconceptions. Loghain had left them there to die. The intent behind it was definitely not malicious, or in Cailan's case, anyway. Aedan had doubted it was malicious towards him as well, and likely his sister, but Loghain had seen no point to committing his men to a lost cause.

Aedan couldn't fault the man for that, regardless of who he had abandoned.

He had expected Alistair's displeasure. His fellow Warden and best friend had been committed to the Grey Wardens. He saw Duncan as a father figure and the Wardens as his family, and Loghain had indirectly caused their deaths. Aedan knew full-well what he was getting himself into.

That didn't matter much, though. He hadn't quite anticipated how hurt Alistair would be, and for that, he was sorry. The other man wouldn't allow him to apologize, but Aedan still regretted what the decision had done to them. Their friendship likely wouldn't withstand the Blight; Alistair made it clear he was leaving the Wardens when this was over. He was willing to leave before the Archdemon was defeated, but Elissa had miraculously persuaded him to stay, and Aedan would count his lucky stars for that every day.

What he hadn't expected, though, was Elissa's dislike, or Leliana's. Leliana's made more sense—she wasn't the type to believe in leaving people behind, no matter how fruitless the situation might be, but his own sister? He thought she'd understand. He thought that no matter how much the others might hate him, he would always have her support.

But he didn't.

She hadn't spoken to him since they left Denerim unless it was absolutely necessary. Alistair hadn't spoken to him whatsoever, and Leliana just seemed to go along with it, retreating with the other two Wardens into their own separate group.

It was hard watching the group he'd led for almost a year disintegrate. It was hard watching Alistair's and Leliana's loyalties shift practically overnight. One second, they looked to him for guidance and leadership, and the next, they had turned their backs on him in favor of his sister.

Aedan couldn't fault Elissa for it. It wasn't like she tried to turn them on him. It had just happened, and it was his own stupid fault.

But he couldn't go back on a decision like this. He couldn't turn around and cut Loghain down to please them, and besides, somehow, by the grace of the Maker Himself, Aedan had persuaded Anora to agree to their ridiculous plan. She hadn't seemed too surprised, more...interested in it than he expected, to say the least.

He was going to be king.

The elves jostling past him snapped him back to the present. Elissa was missing. She had followed him across the gangway towards the castle, but once they'd engaged with the darkspawn, he'd lost track of her. There had been an ogre, and while him and his party had experience handling the creatures, it was apparent that the Dalish did not. The elves had avoided many of the beast's attacks, allowing him and Sten to engage it directly while they peppered it and the smaller darkspawn with arrows.

Could he really blame them, though?

They had retaken the gate and were rushing into the courtyard, basically falling on themselves and their own dead to try and gain a foothold when Aedan truly noticed his sister's absence. Usually, she was always right by his side, covering his flank while he covered hers. It had become an unspoken agreement for them to be together in fights—it had been Alistair in the Deep Roads and in the forest with the werewolves, but on the road, it was always her. Elissa was always right by his side, no matter how angry she was with him.

But now she was gone, and he found himself desperately praying that she hadn't been taken down by the darkspawn's archers.

And then he saw it—a flash of red hair, closely following a head of almost-strawberry-blonde hair back the way they came. In a rush to make sure, he barrelled into the courtyard, up a short set of stairs to a landing. He made short work of the genlock there, rending head from shoulders, and turned.

Sure enough, Elissa was running back across the bridge, towards the windmill, with Alistair and Leliana hot on her heels. The latter of the group was still slinging her bow over her shoulders when she slowed, looking back over her shoulder.

Their eyes met for a brief second. She looked torn, but Aedan could see Alistair stop. He called out to her, but his voice and the words were lost to the sounds of the battle raging around him, and Leliana turned away.

He huffed. Something about that was frustrating, but Aedan couldn't let it bother him. There were still darkspawn pouring out of the castle, darkspawn on the wooden scaffolds, bottlenecking the gate with arrows and crossbow bolts.

Aedan looked back to the fray, blocking an arrow with his shield. Just another hole, another dent, to add to the many.

His eyes fell on the witch immediately, so enticing and aggressive was she, and he yelled, "Morrigan!" She battered aside a hurlock with her staff before turning, looking for the source of his voice, and when their eyes locked, he pointed with his sword. "Go with them!"

One terse nod, and the witch was gone, exploding in a puff of feathers as she transformed into a raven. Aedan didn't think they were deserting, but if they were, at least Morrigan would be able to tell him when she reported back.

If she did.

* * *

A cacophony of screaming tore Elissa away from the fighting. Elves trampled past as she retreated to follow the sound. Her ears were ringing from the sounds of battle—darkspawn, elves screaming as they were cut apart, swords clashing, arrows thwacking into bodies with a meaty groan. It was absolute chaos, and Elissa wasn't sure how she even heard these new cries for help over the originals.

They were so close but so distant, as if travelling over... _water._

She had recognized the way the voices vibrated off the walls of the castle, off the stony spires reaching out of Lake Calenhad, across the lake. She had heard Fergus scream like that once, back at Highever. The three of them had been exploring by the cliffs and the oldest had fallen, trumbled right on over onto an outcropping. He'd broken his arm.

Elissa could never forget that sound. The sound of complete and utter anguish, absolute fear and pain rolled into one. It was a sound she had never wanted to hear again, and yet, there it was. Coming from the village.

Her eyes narrowed as she drew nearer to the balustrade. In their initial crossing and assessment of the situation, the village had appeared deserted. It seemed the townsfolk had evacuated before the darkspawn struck and seemed obvious by the way the beasts were throwing themselves at the keep. It was almost too easy; defeat the darkspawn besieging the walls, make sure no packs were roaming the countryside, triple check for any signs of the Archdemon, assemble army, and wait.

The screaming stopped abruptly, and then resumed with a new vigor. There were still villagers down there.

Elissa looked to the gates as Sten leapt at the ogre, greatsword sinking into its throat. Men and women alike cheered as their push towards the keep redoubled in strength. They were plowing through the darkspawn like a sword through an unarmored belly—it was almost effortless.

They would retake the castle with or without her. They had too much momentum for the darkspawn to be able to drive them back.

Without another thought, Elissa sheathed her sword, extended the clasps on her shield to throw on her back, and started running. Those people needed her help more than Aedan did here. He would understand. He _had_ to.

She was already sweating buckets, but the sprint to the road could've killed her. Running was never her strong suit, let alone running through ankle deep snow. Another second, Elissa thought, and she would've keeled over. But even as she slowed, doubling over to catch her breath, Elissa felt renewed. The cramps in her muscles soothed, the ache in her lungs began to ease, and the pounding of her heart in her head melted away.

It was like a bucket of hot water had been dumped on her. Everything, every ailment, washed away as the water ran down her skin. It was such a welcome relief, but as the feeling ran off her, the heat remained, persistent, and she needed to _go._

What precisely threw Elissa down the hillside she'd never know. It was a primal force, urging, pleading, with her to go faster, and she complied. It was magic, that much was obvious, but whether it was her own doing or something else's, Elissa didn't care. It was almost like it was assuring her this was the right decision, but she didn't need its reassurances.

She knew it was the right thing to do. These people needed something to happen, and she was determined to be that something.

Elissa tore her eyes away from the buried path to look upon the small village. Darkspawn were pulling people out of huts along the docks, rounding them up into the Chantry. Twisted idols were already being erected by a pack of the creatures outside the doors.

Elissa didn't plan on letting the darkspawn live long enough to find out their plans.

She practically slid the final yards, stooping over to preserve her balance down the short slope. By now, the pack of darkspawn meandering around the Chantry had noticed her and were yelping at each other in their gutteral language. As they rushed to meet her, brandishing wicked swords and maces that weighed more than she did, Elissa slid to a halt.

_Don't think, just do._

Elissa didn't know where the voice came from, but it gave her courage she didn't know she possessed. It was the same voice that pulled her into the Fade at times of stress, the same voice that propelled her through every spell she'd ever cast.

And the next thing Elissa knew, the image of the mage burning through darkspawn at Ostagar was her. The energy screaming at her to go, to run, was manifesting as fire, toiling from shoulder to fingertip until she threw it away. The flames welled into a ball as they soared, slamming into the darkspawn with such a force it knocked them off their feet.

She stared at their smoking bodies, mouth agape, as a form shimmered into reality at her side.

Morrigan inspected the corpses with an arched brow. She made a noise in her throat, and if Elissa didn't know any better, she thought the witch might've been impressed.

That spell felt like it opened a floodgate. The same heat she felt spreading over her as she ran, it was like an all-consuming fire now. It needed more. _She_ needed more.

Elissa didn't realize her chest was still heaving until Alistair and Leliana joined them, both looking absolutely winded—Alistair moreso.

"Andraste's tits, woman, next time you plan on running like that, warn us so we don't follow you!"

Elissa blinked. "I...didn't ask you to follow me."

"Do you think us so low as to let you charge off by yourself?" Leliana asked.

Alistair nodded his agreement, straightening from having his hands on his knees. How he'd run so far so fast was downright astonishing. He wore heavy platemail. Elissa could barely run in chainmail; she could never do what he just did.

"Yes, this is very touching, but..." Morrigan trailed off, inclining her staff in the direction of the wharf. It was little more than rickety bridges tying suspended huts together, but it was sturdy enough to support the people who lived there. Several darkspawn, the kinds that wore bronze armor, were holding villagers on their knees, swords positioned under their chins.

The blacksmith, Owen. His daughter, Valena. The barkeep, Bella. The owner of the bar, whatever the fuck his name was.

Elissa started forward, but before she'd even taken a step, the hurlock holding Owen slit his throat. Blood squirted from his neck and the darkspawn held him upright, allowing the man's blood to spill over its boots and the thin layer of ice on the lake.

Once the stream turned to a trickle, it shoved his body over the ropes. Valena's cries of anguish vibrated in Elissa's skull, propelling her feet forward, past the town center, straight through a pair of shrieks, and up the walkway onto the bridge. Elissa couldn't remember getting here. One second, she was down there, just outside the Chantry with her companions, and the next, she was here, locked in a three-versus-one battle with two hurlocks and a genlock.

The dwarf-sized darkspawn was easiest to dispatch. They always acted rashly, too bold for their intelligence, and it found her sword through its chest in a matter of seconds. The two hurlocks, however, were a different challenge. They always came in pairs, always acted off each other no matter how foolish a sane man might find their style. One had a bladed mace, one had a sword and a shield, and Maker did they put up a fight.

She could hear them behind her. Morrigan was shifting into a raven to get to her faster. Alistair was running again. Leliana had gotten a little closer, but kept enough distance she'd have plenty of time to draw her sword should the need arise.

When the mace slammed into her shield, Elissa could feel blood trickle over her skin. It was _stuck._ In her arm, her shield, whatever, and the darkspawn had to rip it out.

Elissa couldn't feel it. The blade had lodged itself in her arm, but by the time it came free, she had been aggressively shoved aside.

If Elissa was a force, this thing possessing her was the universe.


	42. Chapter 42

It had been three days, and the castle still reeked of blood and darkspawn.

Servants and knights alike had spent the entire first day scrubbing the walls, the floors, even the dirt, but the stench of death was seemingly permanent. It was a sulfur-like smell, sticking to everything and everyone who got close to it, and even the burning of clothes and corpses wouldn't rid the air of it.

After the second day of non-stop trying, Eamon called off the efforts. It was likely they'd see darkspawn here again, so what was the point?

Elissa couldn't stand it. Her stomach roiled at the very thought of the smell. She had almost taken to sleeping on the walls to free herself of it. So nauseous and disgusted was she that most meals had been avoided—Elissa's stomach was growling now as she sat, but she knew if she ate, it would come right back up.

Thankfully, the scent of burning wood and candles was wafting in from the farmlands and village. The incense the sisters had burned for the dead was still lingering in the air. The combination was so strange and made so much sense, that Elissa hated it.

Far off in the distance, Elissa could see the pyre of darkspawn bodies still blazing away. It had taken far too long to round them up. Far less time had been taken to gather the bodies of their own, but only because they numbered far less than the darkspawn had. If Elissa had the energy, she might've been able to figure out the ratio, and it would've heavily favored the monsters. So many of them had died in comparison to the darkspawn.

The townsfolk and knights that had died had been buried the day before. Prayers were said, the Chant of Light was sung by the remaining priests. Elissa had found herself down there with them, guilt overcoming her until she had helped. No matter how many people they saved, more were dead.

If she was better, more of Redcliffe's villagers might have survived. If she was just...whatever the hell she was supposed to be, there wouldn't be so many dead.

She could feel them. Lost souls scrambling between here and the Fade, drifting, confused, scared. She could feel the spirits, benevolent and not, tensing on the other end, waiting for their opportunity to tear their way through. So much death. It attracted demons. Where there was death on such a large scale, there were likely mages.

And where there were mages, there were other, far more dangerous, beings just waiting for a chance. Between the spirits passing into the Fade and the healers, Elissa suspected Redcliffe was about to become a hot spot for abominations. She imagined Ostagar to be the same way; some sad, depressing middle ground for spirits to aimlessly wander, lost to eternity.

Redcliffe wouldn't be the same. It was nowhere near as destructive as Ostagar, but Elissa couldn't help wondering what the next Ostagar would be. Part of her didn't want to know, but she would be right there at the thick of it, fighting darkspawn until the Maker graced her with an end.

Movement at the edge of the elves' camp tore her eyes away from the pillars of smoke. The Dalish had been the first to arrive, having aided in the retake of Redcliffe. Their scouts had thrown themselves into the battle with such courage Elissa thought of herself as a coward.

What had been a small number, no more than thirty, was now well over two hundred. Every Dalish in Ferelden capable of fighting darkspawn was here. So suspicious of humans, rightfully so, but they were the first to answer the call. They were the first to ally themselves with the Wardens, the first to believe them when they said this was a Blight, and Elissa knew as soon as this was over, humans and human lords would forget.

It was a sad thought. Humans were evil, vile beings to anything they deemed lesser—elves, mages, qunari, even dwarves.

Elissa watched as the elves bustled about, frantic about some new development, and just as she got to her feet to go investigate, the door to the watchtower opened. It was Leliana. The bard had spent most of her recent days assisting the Chantry clean up this mess; she was the main reason Elissa had found herself at the gravesite, shovel in hand. It would've felt...intrusive if Leliana hadn't been there.

"I thought I might find you up here," Leliana said.

Elissa looked back to the Dalish, and then to Leliana. She followed her gaze for a brief second, but didn't seem concerned by it. "Did you get lonely?"

Leliana shrugged as she produced a small package from her bag. "Not particularly, but I did miss you, and I thought _you_ might be lonely, so...here I am." She tossed Elissa the cloth and it took more brainpower than Elissa was happy to admit for her to catch it. "You haven't been nosing around for scraps, either, or buying anything, so I assumed your secret stash was getting low."

Elissa frowned. The package was light, almost airy, but as she pulled the cord and unwrapped it, she almost laughed. It was jerky. Four strips, but it was something. "I haven't thought about this in months."

"Ah, well, being the guests of an arl will do that, no?"

She smirked faintly as she sat again. Leliana moved to join her. "Free food is free food."

"Indeed," Leliana agreed.

They sat in silence for a while. Elissa watched the elves, still curious, while Leliana hummed a melody to herself. She'd never really heard Leliana sing—whenever she wanted to, Elissa was always either too tired to listen, or so smelly she would've been embarrassed to hang around. Sleeping on dirt didn't do much to help the exhaustion, and bathing in dirty river water didn't help the smell, but oh, did Elissa try.

Eventually, her appetite got the better of her, and Elissa decided to risk losing her meager supper to her weak stomach. She tore into the jerky with a hunger only another Warden would understand. Sometimes she forgot how much her appetite had changed since her Joining; it was almost second nature now. Just eat, whenever you're hungry and wherever you're at, so long as your stomach stopped growling. She didn't even think about it anymore.

Regardless, Elissa offered Leliana part of her snack. She knew she'd turn it down. Whenever Leliana brought Elissa any sort of food, she refused to share. She didn't want to keep it from Elissa, and typically ate before joining her to save the trouble.

But Elissa would offer anyway. Leliana could turn it down every single time, and Elissa would still try. She felt it was rude to eat in front of someone without at least offering. Plus, food had been scarce once, in the Deep Roads, and Elissa was still very, very careful about what she ate.

"What do you think they're up to?" Elissa asked, nodding in the direction of the elves.

Leliana paused her tune, blinking to clear her thoughts. "Perhaps they are praying to their gods before battle? They know as well as we do what's to come."

"In the middle of the night?"

Leliana shrugged again. "Who knows? They have different customs than we do."

A figure materialized at the edge of the camp, and then a second, much larger than the first. It was clear the first was one of the elves and the second a human. They conversed briefly, and then the elf gestured towards the keep, bowing their head in acknowledgement once. The second figure stepped out of the torchlight as the elf retreated into their camp.

"Why is a human with them?"

Leliana arched her brows. "You are far more perceptive than you like to appear." The bard got up, extending a hand for Elissa. "I imagine you'd like to go find out, though, yes?"

"Someone has to be nosy when Aedan isn't around."

Elissa accepted the help up, but when she looked to Leliana, the Orlesian was staring at her, eyes narrowed. She raised an eyebrow in a silent question—what?

"You look so alike," Leliana said.

"We're twins," Elissa said, frowning. "I haven't told you that?"

Leliana blinked as she turned, and Elissa fell into step alongside her. "No, I don't think so. I always assumed it was because you were siblings, but it's...different."

"Oh, well...we're twins," Elissa repeated. "He was born first. Used to pick on me for it when we were kids. He liked to remind me he was the oldest."

Leliana smiled faintly as they headed down to the courtyard. "By how long?"

"Less than five minutes," Elissa said, exasperated. "I don't think he stopped lording it over my head until he got Sam, and then he spent every waking second of the day training that damned dog like it was all he wanted to do in life. That was when we..." She trailed off, swallowing and blinking away a sadness she didn't know she possessed.

Leliana looked at her over her shoulder, still smiling, but it faded rather quickly. "What's wrong?"

Elissa shook her head. "Nothing, just...nothing."

Leliana's brows furrowed as Elissa caught up. She looked like she wanted to pry, but to Leliana's credit, she never did. She allowed Elissa the privacy of her own thoughts, gave her the time to process.

"So why Sam?"

Thankful for the change in subject, Elissa said, "Aedan's always had a fascination with our family and our history. The Couslands came into power when Flemeth killed Lord Conobar—when he died, his guard captain took his lands and titles, and that man was our ancestor. His name was Sarim, so Sarim is Sam's official name, but..." Elissa shrugged, smirked a bit. "When you're a kid, you'll do anything to terrorize your brother, so I started calling him Sam as a joke, and after a while...it just stuck."

Leliana laughed. "I can't imagine young Aedan was happy about that."

"Maker, no! He hated it," Elissa said. "Now I don't think Sam would even respond to Sarim, but who knows? That dog's smarter than he should be. Sam got Aedan into more trouble than either of us ever did on our own. He had to chase Sam out of the larder the same day we joined the Wardens. Maker only knows how he survives without our Nan's cooking. He ate more of it than I did."

"He sounds like quite the troublemaker," Leliana said.

"Oh, definitely," Elissa agreed, "but I love him, and so does Aedan."

"So why didn't you ever get a dog?" Leliana asked.

Elissa looked away, up towards the sky now that they were outside again. She swallowed deeply before returning her attention to Leliana. "Aedan got Sam after we, uh...found out I was a mage. Our father didn't... He didn't think it was a good idea for me to have one, being untrained and all. He figured it would be dangerous for the pup. I could catch its fur on fire or something if it made me mad."

"Oh...I'm sorry I asked."

Elissa swallowed again, shaking her head. "Don't be. It was just a question."

"It must've been terrible to grow up and watch your brother have things you'd be denied. Most people would've grown to be resentful of their sibling."

Elissa just shrugged. "What is there to resent? My magic, or Aedan's lack thereof? It wasn't something either of us could control, and he was my best friend." Leliana nodded in understanding. "Aedan was all I had. I latched onto him, I think."

"What about your other brother? Aedan told me about him once, but speaking of him made him sad."

"Fergus?" Elissa sighed, stretched her neck and cracked it. Sitting on the ramparts made her sore and stiff after three days of demanding activity. "I don't know. What about him? I never really spent much time with him. He was always...I don't know. He seemed far away."

"Do you think he's alive? Aedan said he wasn't at Highever when it was attacked."

"He wasn't. He had taken our father's men south to Ostagar ahead of Father and Howe. Howe claimed his men were delayed by storms—they're common around Amaranthine and the roads between the city and Highever. With our men gone, it was easy for Howe to...do what he did."

"Didn't you see him at Ostagar?"

Elissa shook her head. "King Cailan had him scouting the Wilds when we arrived. We had to go into the Wilds as part of our Joining and we found some of our men ripped up by the darkspawn. We assumed he died, but when we were at Howe's estate, I found reports that said otherwise, so... I'm holding out hope for Fergus, for Aedan's sake. They were close."

"Were they?"

Elissa stopped short. In their conversation, she hadn't realized where they were—halfway across the bridge and towards the road, smack in the middle of the shadowy figure's path. It had been their intention to intersect with the man's path. They'd wanted to know what was going on with the elves and what a human had to do with it.

"Fergus?"

The figure threw his hood off, but Elissa already recognized him. That same, domineering build, strong enough to wield a greatsword. He was as big as their father had been during the war with the Orlesians—tall, impossibly broad-shouldered. Even with the beard, longer and unkempt, she knew it was him.

Elissa didn't know she missed him. Elissa hadn't known she was worried. All she had felt when she found those reports was anger. Anger that Howe had known about their brother before they did. Anger that Howe had been keeping tabs on the three of them. Anger that Howe had been the man to send assassins after them, despite Loghain's reluctant approval.

The next thing Elissa knew, she was being wrapped up in those bear arms in a hug so strong she could've snapped in half. She felt his deep, thundering chuckle rattle through her bones as he dropped her back on her feet.

"How's that for timing?" Fergus asked.

"Uh...rather perfect," Elissa said, breathless. Her ribs ached, but in a good way. She would take broken ribs for something good like this again. "W-what are you doing here?"

"What am _I_ doing here?" he asked. "What are _you_ doing here?" He gestured to her as he took a step back, eyes wide. "You're a Grey Warden now?"

"The Warden that arrived before you left, he saved Aedan and I in exchange for us joining his order," Elissa explained quickly. "What are you doing here? How are you alive? Didn't the darkspawn...kill you?"

Fergus' mouth settled in a grim line. "Fortunately, no. We skirmished with a few packs of them, and many of my men died, but a few of us were lucky enough to be rescued by a tribe of Chasind folk." He blinked, frowned. "What do you mean, saved?"

Elissa looked back at Leliana, expression falling as she realized the implications. He didn't know. How could he? From what Elissa understood, Fergus had been with that tribe for almost a year trying to recover from his wounds. They had been so severe Howe had clearly not thought of him as a threat, so he focused his attention on her and Aedan, but...

"Why don't we go inside?" Elissa asked gently. "There's been...a lot that's happened since you left."


	43. Chapter 43

So it had come to this.

A frantic muster of men—humans, elves, dwarves, mages. A confusing army of people, something almost akin to the stories Aedan had grown up on. It was quite an impressive feat, an unbelievable one. Aedan had oftentimes caught himself still months in the past—one day he would wake up and remember that yes, they had managed to gather the support of the elves, or the Circle, or the dwarves. They had won the Landsmeet. _He_ had won the Landsmeet in such a landslide it was a wonder it had ever been a concern.

Many nights leading them to Denerim had been spent sleepless, either from nightmares of darkspawn or fears of what could've happened. He feared Howe sending another assassin after them, one that might've been more successful than Zevran—both times he tried to kill them. He feared Loghain doing something similar, but then, it hadn't been a very pressing fear, had it?

That same man was seated across from him now. Wrinkles adorned an aged face and his hair hung loosely over his cheeks. He almost appeared gaunt, but Aedan knew better. He had been the one to take Loghain's beating at the Landsmeet. He had been the one staring down the older man's sword. And for someone who had spent their younger years using a bow and arrow, Loghain sure did know how to handle a sword.

Sometimes Aedan forgot he spared the man. Sometimes he even wondered why he had. It had done nothing but cause him trouble with the two people he cared about most—Elissa and Alistair.

It had been necessary. Anora hadn't exactly demanded it in their discussions, but she implied it, and Aedan knew that tone she used. It was that of a woman used to getting what she wanted. And he didn't think that was a bad thing or think any less of her for it; Aedan was well aware Anora had been the spine in her relationship with Cailan. He was plenty aware she was the one ruling Ferelden.

He was also plenty aware that while she had been "pleased" with his suggestion, she would try her hardest to keep that position. They had been friends as children and Aedan had had an infatuation for her growing up, and on top of it all, he would legitimize her claim to the throne. Anora had far less of one than even he did, and she was the queen.

With Alistair around, neither of them technically had a real claim, bastard or not, but Aedan was a popular man amongst the nobility and in his father's teyrnir. That would likely be enough to sate the Landsmeet, so she hadn't argued. Anora didn't seem excited at the idea of marrying so soon, but she had agreed, and part of Aedan felt like it was necessary to keep her in check.

In check for what, though, he didn't know.

Rumors had circulated through Denerim over the last year or so. Cailan had been rather vocal about his desire for an alliance with Orlais and several people Aedan spoke to claimed he was preparing to cast Anora aside for Empress Celene. Such a thing would've been a huge scandal—how could anyone cast aside the daughter of Teyrn Loghain?

Easily. She had yet to bear him any children, and that was an unfortunate requirement of being queen. Aedan wondered if it was from lack of trying or a legitimate problem they could run into. Alistair had once told him it was nearly impossible for Wardens to have their own children. If Anora wasn't fertile, Ferelden could run into the same problem it was having now. No "legitimate" heirs.

All of this thinking made Aedan's head hurt. This wasn't even something he wanted or needed to worry about right now. To worry about heirs, he would have to marry Anora. To marry Anora, he had to survive their engagement with the Archdemon.

To do anything, he would have to survive.

Aedan was determined. They'd already killed one dragon. That was more experience than anyone else here had, and that was far more experience than most Wardens ever had, and killing dragons was part of their job. Had it been difficult? Yes. Had he almost died? Yes. Had his friends almost died? Yes. Had it been terrifying?

Absolutely.

But he'd done it once. He could do it again. With his companions at his side, Aedan felt invincible. Alistair, his brother in arms, and now suddenly keeping him at arm's length for a betrayal Aedan understood all too well. Morrigan, a witch forced into this journey by the very same mother she had sought to kill—there had been no opportunity to do so. Aedan understood her fear of her mother consuming her, or whatever it had been, but there had simply been no time.

Leliana, a woman he'd cringed at far too many times to count. Be it tales from her past in Orlais or the way his sister looked at her, the bard-turned-sister had a knack for making Aedan's skin crawl. Sten, a quiet but surprisingly soft man, who wanted nothing and yet desired his sword so he could go home. Zevran, an assassin Aedan had foolishly believed he'd gotten along with. He hadn't been surprised at the elf's betrayal, but it stung nonetheless.

Wynne, a mage they found defending the last of the Circle singlehandedly. She was fond of the tough-love thing, but she gave Aedan his space if she upset him, and he could respect that. In a way, she helped to fill the void of his own mother, and he would be eternally grateful.

Then there was Oghren, some drunk dwarf he really didn't have the chance to get to know, but liked regardless. He was comedic relief at worst and hilarious at best, but the man was a vicious fighter, and he'd saved Aedan's life more times than he could count in the short time they'd known each other.

Loghain, even, for the even shorter time he'd been with them. Aedan appreciated him quietly. Aside from a vague threat to treat his daughter right, few words had actually been spoken between them. He seemed content to leave it that way; he was much older than the majority of them, save Wynne, perhaps.

And then there was his sister, Elissa. She was a fan of even fewer words than Loghain, but she hadn't questioned him when it mattered. She was his right-hand man, for all intents and purposes, like Ser Gilmore had been for Fergus. He didn't understand why. She was resentful enough, and in his mind, Aedan should've represented all the things she hated their parents for denying her.

But she didn't. Elissa didn't hate him. At least, not before he spared Loghain. Now they spoke even less than they did before, and she appeared happy enough to sit with Leliana every waking second of everyday.

Aedan briefly wondered why she didn't hate him. Growing up, before she'd displayed her abilities, they had been inseparable. Everywhere he went, she went, and vice versa. She had been the favored child for nearly ten years—being the only daughter in a house of sons would do that, and it had been likely she would've been the child their father paraded around had she not been a mage. When they travelled, Elissa had always been introduced first as if she was Bryce's pride and joy. Aedan had had to work twice as hard as Elissa did for their parents to notice him.

And then she'd just...protected him, and it was like a complete flip. Overnight she went from the golden child to being smothered and hidden away. He could recall more than one occasion where various lords and ladies would arrive in Highever looking to marry their sons to her. He could recall travelling south without her, just himself, Fergus, and his father, and young men looking for her.

Eventually the interest faded. It became apparent that Bryce Cousland wasn't interested in marrying his daughter off for whatever reason, and people slowly forgot about her. A name he used to hear constantly in their adventures faded away to a passing thought during a dinner.

As a child, Aedan had been jealous of the attention she received, but he still loved her. They had been best friends.

As an adult, he just felt sorry for her. Sorry that he hadn't been able to do anything to really help her, sorry that he had been jealous, sorry that things worked out the way they did. Once, shortly after the incident, Aedan had asked why she hadn't been sent away to the Circle, and his mother told him that family protected family. She could never bear to watch her only daughter taken away, and Bryce hadn't wanted to, either.

They had the power and the coin to keep Elissa hidden from the templars, so they did, but in turn, they pushed her away.

Aedan wished things were different between them. Their childhood had been wonderful—the Cousland twins, the same dusty hair, same green eyes, same sense of humor and same troublemaking tendencies. It was like the Maker Himself had decided their parents needed two of the exact same child, one of each gender.

Their bond hadn't broken through any of that. Elissa still loved him dearly and him her, but it pained him to watch the distance grow between their family. Suddenly he was getting into trouble by himself while Fergus shook his head and frowned upon him. Then he was just getting into trouble with no real consequence as Fergus became interested in women and a family, and then he was truly alone.

It had been everything he could do to impress his father. Fergus wasn't people-oriented enough to lead, and Elissa couldn't because she was a mage, so it fell to him. It was his job to take after their father. It was his duty, and it had pushed a wedge between them, no matter how hard either fought, but their bond remained strong.

This, though, sparing Loghain...it looked like it had shattered that. Elissa didn't seek him out, even to just sit silently in contemplation. He hadn't truly seen her since they left Denerim. All of her time was spent with Leliana and Alistair, and it was becoming clearer and clearer that there was something between the two women. Whether or not Alistair was part of it, or was just there because it was the we-hate-Loghain party, Aedan didn't know. He doubted it as Alistair was too...Alistair for the three of them to be together, but he still wondered.

It was good, he supposed. It was good to see Elissa happy with someone, even if it wasn't him, and even if it just pushed them further apart. It was good to see Leliana letting herself relax in a way he doubted he'd ever be privy to.

Aedan was glad they were happy. Even if it didn't involve him, it was relieving to see something positive happening in the world around them. It helped him remember that there was something worth fighting for. It reminded him that there were still people out there, untouched and unconcerned about this Blight, and Aedan intended to keep it that way.

This Blight would end here, in Ferelden, before there could be another catastrophe like the previous.

He was to become king, but Aedan was willing to die for those innocent people. He was willing to die for Alistair despite his increasing dislike. He was willing to die for Loghain and push his betrayal aside. He was willing to die for his sister.

It was his duty to protect, and Maker be damned, Aedan would carry it out.

* * *

She couldn't bear it any longer. She couldn't listen to Fergus' cries, couldn't watch a man she'd never seen do more than crack a smile have a complete breakdown like this. She couldn't.

So instead of doing what she knew was right and comforting him, Elissa fled.

Out of the great hall, out of the courtyard, out of the castle walls. She had to go. Where, she didn't know, but anywhere to avoid those wails.

Elissa couldn't imagine the pain Fergus felt. He'd shared his tale when they brought him inside—Fergus had been wounded while scouting the Wilds and had been rescued by a Chasind tribe. They'd fed and clothed him, kept him safe while he recovered his strength. It had been an astounding tale in and of itself. The Chasind were supposed to be barbarians.

But then he'd told them of the vast numbers of darkspawn they began to see. Vast hordes, hunting packs larger than they'd seen so far. He and the tribe had been lucky enough to flee north before it became inescapable, but not before seeing it. The Archdemon itself, flying north.

What was north in Ferelden, except for Denerim?

Messengers and ravens were sent immediately. The elves were already here, having arrived over the course of two days, but they were still waiting on many of the men from the Bannorn, the dwarves, and the mages. Their army was no army, not yet, and the clock was ticking.

They needed to leave. They needed to reach Denerim before the Archdemon and the horde, but they couldn't leave with only a fifth of their troops, and Elissa just couldn't listen to Fergus' heartbroken cries.

She couldn't tell him. Aedan had to. She couldn't bring herself to tell him that his wife and son were gone. His family. The family he'd built himself. She couldn't. She couldn't imagine how much it hurt to learn of their demise, to know if only he hadn't left, he might've been able to save them.

It hurt knowing she could've protected them if she'd been awake. It killed her to know Howe slaughtered them mercilessly, and took away the life of a child instead of hers. She would've died for Oren in a heartbeat. There would've been no hesitation. He'd never even held a sword, and Howe had the boy killed.

Elissa couldn't be there.

So she ran. Ran as fast and as far as her legs would carry her, ran until the firelight from the camps and keep couldn't be seen behind her. Ran until the only sounds were that of her own beating heart and her boots in the dirt. Ran until soft padding of her footsteps became crunching in that dead, pathetic dirt the darkspawn left in their wake, and then she fell to her knees.

Elissa looked up at the sky. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Sad tears, angry, frustrated, everything she could've possibly felt. She let out one, pathetic scream before falling forward and burying her head in her arms. She cried, cried for a family she never knew, cried for all the people she let die, cried for all the people she'd senselessly killed.

No matter how far she ran, Elissa wasn't going to escape those tears. She would hear Fergus' cries everyday for the rest of her life and she knew she would. It wasn't a sound she would ever want to hear again, but it would haunt her forever. It killed her to hear it, to know if anyone could have and should have prevented their deaths, it was her. This was her fault.

Her hands balled up into fists in the dirt. Elissa could feel that same insurmountable rage building up inside of her, that same fire that carried her to truly casting her first spell, that same blinding anger that would cast her aside in times of peril.

Elissa was scared to die. She didn't think she was ready. She didn't want to. She couldn't accept the fate her dream had laid out for her, but to prevent this? To prevent this pain Fergus was feeling, but for someone else?

She smelled smoke, and as she sat back to find the source, Elissa knew she wasn't scared anymore. She wasn't ready to die, but she was ready to atone for all the mistakes she'd made. She was ready to make up for the people she hadn't saved.

Somehow, Elissa had managed to set the dirt itself on fire. Just under the surface of the cracked earth, she could see small tendrils of flame spreading and dissipating all around her. No change was made; the ground and dirt looked exactly the same, it had just been on fire momentarily.

Elissa's chest heaved and she spread her fingers, flexing her hands. They looked so lame. They were just hands, but she could cause so much damage with these alone. Those people she'd let die? They would be alive right now if she could've casted one spell. Oren and Oriana? Elissa could've protected them. Her parents? Them too. She could've even healed her father.

Elissa yelled again, and as she slammed her hands back down, the ground itself shook.


	44. Chapter 44

Riordan's body language was enough to tell her what this was about. She could see it in his eyes, see it in the way his shoulders hung over his body, in the slight crease of his brows.

"You're all here," the Warden said, taking his time to make sure he had all of their attention. "You're new to the Wardens and you may not have been told how an Archdemon is slain. I need to know if that is so."

Alistair frowned as Elissa edged further back, towards the door her and Aedan had just entered the room from. "You mean there's more to it than, say, just chopping off its head?"

Riordan's already downtrodden expression fell even further. She swallowed, felt her muscles tensing, preparing to run back out to the wilderness. Aedan had only just dragged her back after she spent the night sitting, staring off into the stars. He had dragged her back for this, for the conversation she'd known was coming, for the very thing she had been dreading for weeks, and he hadn't had any idea.

"So it is true. Duncan had not told you. I had simply..." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, pacing a few steps before returning to his starting point. "Tell me—have you ever wondered why the Grey Wardens are needed to defeat the darkspawn?"

No, she hadn't, and Elissa wished she could go back to being so blissfully ignorant.

"I always assumed it had something to do with the taint in us," Aedan said, folding his arms across his chest.

"That's exactly it," Riordan continued. "The Archdemon may be slain, just as any other darkspawn, but should any other than a Warden do the slaying, it will not be enough."

She felt Aedan's eyes on her. Elissa couldn't look at him. He was probably confused, hoping to see something similar in her eyes, but she couldn't lie to him. Not like that.

"The essence of the beast will pass through the taint to the nearest darkspawn and will be reborn anew in that body. The dragon is all but immortal."

"Then how the hell do we kill it?" Aedan demanded. "I didn't... _We_ didn't come this far to find out we're fucked." He gestured to herself and Alistair, and the pair exchanged glances. He almost looked embarrassed, sheepish, but she knew Alistair enough to know he felt guilty. Aedan would still speak for them, protect them, and they had abandoned him.

Riordan raised a hand, motioning for peace, and said, "If a Grey Warden strikes the killing blow, the essence instead passes to the Warden."

"And...what happens to the Warden?" Alistair asked.

"A darkspawn is an empty, soulless vessel. A Warden is not. The essence of the Archdemon is destroyed...and so is the Warden."

"Meaning the Grey Warden that kills the Archdemon...dies?"

"Yes, Alistair. Without the Archdemon, the Blight ends. It is the only way."

Silence hung over the room. No one wanted to broach the subject, not even Loghain, who looked like he definitely had something to say. It was a lot to process, even for her, who knew exactly what was waiting for them. Part of her had hoped against hope that this was some silly dream, something that wouldn't come true, just like every other dream she ever had. She had seen Aedan die on that damned road, killed by darkspawn, and here he was, standing as tall as ever, looking far more upset than she could understand.

He swallowed deeply, folding his arms across his chest. She knew that look. He had come this far; he would see it through. "So it's up to us to kill the dragon."

Riordan nodded, mouth set in a firm line. "In Blights past, the eldest of the Wardens would decide which amongst them would take that blow. If possible, the final blow should be mine to take. I am the eldest, and the taint will not spare me much longer. If I fail, Loghain would be wisest to take my place as the taint will not give you much time, either. But if all else fails..." He turned from the general to the three of them. "It'll fall to you. The Blight _must_ be stopped here or it'll overtake all of Ferelden before the rest of the Wardens can respond.

"But enough," he said, sighing deeply. "There is much to do tomorrow and very little time to rest between then." He gestured to the door. "I will let you return to your rooms."

Loghain moved past first, and then Aedan, and Alistair stopped alongside her. He looked to Riordan and said, "We'll see you when the army assembles tomorrow, then. I guess this ends soon...in one way or another."

Elissa pushed past abruptly, voice stuck in her throat, and marched into the hallway. Behind, she could hear Riordan say, "That it does, my friend. That it does."

She wanted to be lost. So desperately, Elissa sought... _something,_ a solace. Relief from who she was, where she was. She wished she could pretend she was elsewhere. Nothing here, no one, would be able to comfort her now. It was like a child who had hoped for a certain gift despite knowing he wouldn't get it. That was the disappointment she felt.

A hand locked around her arm as she rounded a corner. Aedan.

"Can we talk?"

She hadn't spoken since yesterday. Not to Aedan, not to Fergus, not to Alistair, not even to Leliana. Something about his crying had hurt her more than she could express.

"About what?" His grip on her was soft, gentle, but Elissa ripped her arm away regardless, eyes narrowing.

Confusion riddled his features. He didn't deserve this. No matter how angry she was about the Blight or the Wardens or Loghain being alive, he didn't deserve it.

Her face fell and her shoulders sagged as she let out a breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so..." Elissa waved a hand.

"No, it's...it's okay. That's a lot to take in," Aedan agreed. His eyes looked past her, focusing on something over her shoulder, and she turned.

Alistair marched past without a word, shoulder ramming into Aedan's in a childish show of disappointment.

Aedan pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a frustrated sigh. "He won't even let me apologize."

"Can you blame him?" Aedan started to speak, but she cut him off. "If I told you I let Howe walk away in Denerim, wouldn't you have a bone to pick with me? Andraste's ass, Aedan, Loghain practically did to him what Howe did to us."

"I suppose," he grumbled.

Elissa swallowed and took a step closer, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm. "It's all right, brother. Alistair will either forgive you eventually...or you'll just have to let him go."

He nodded. His eyebrows furrowed as Aedan looked down the corridor Alistair vanished into, Adam's apple bobbing ever so slightly. When he turned again, he said, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I..." His voice caught in his throat. "I'm sorry I did what I did. I know you can't be happy about it, either, and to be perfectly honest, neither am I, but..."

"I understand," Elissa said.

Aedan nodded again and took a step back, looking at his feet. "You should get some sleep. I'm gonna...go spend some time with Fergus, I think. Just, uh, in case, y'know?"

Probably a good idea. He was reeling from the news of his family's death. It wasn't wise to leave him to his own devices, regardless of whether or not they'd need to rest. He deserved to spend time with his brother, both of them. It would be good, she thought.

It might even be good for her to spend some time with family.

"Do you mind if I tag along?"

Aedan snorted. "Why would I?" She returned his small, mischievous smirk. It was the same one they'd shared as children, right before they inevitably got caught getting into something they shouldn't. "I want to clean up first, but in an hour, do you want to meet us outside on the bridge?"

Elissa nodded. "That sounds great. I should probably go te—" She caught herself as Aedan's eyebrows rose.

"Tell?"

"Talk!" Elissa said. "Talk. To Leliana. Before, uh...this. In case...?"

He smirked again, but this was different. It was a knowing little grin, like when he'd catch her sneaking into the larder at night. He knew. Elissa didn't know how she could've ever hoped to keep something like _this_ a secret from him, or how she ever believed he might've been too thick to notice.

"Everyone already knows," he whispered conspiratorially.

With that, Aedan spun on his heel and briskly marched towards his room.

Elissa sputtered, and then said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He just shrugged, but she heard his laughter as he disappeared, and for some reason, that made it okay.

* * *

Most nights, it was Elissa finding herself buried into Leliana's arms, scared or upset. There was something deeply fulfilling about having someone out there who would protect her of their own accord and not a familial duty.

Tonight, however, as soon as Elissa crawled under the covers, Leliana was there, burrowing into her shoulder. She was a welcome warmth. Cold winds could bite through the thickest of coats, and the jacket and cloak Elissa possessed couldn't be called heavy. It took serious effort in the mornings to tuck every inch of bare skin under a hat or a glove.

Oh, how she missed the warmth of Highever. It never got this cold at home. Sure, it wasn't always blistering hot, but a day that wasn't comfortable was rare. Snow was an even rarer occurrence; Elissa hadn't seen her first snow until she was seven, having travelled south and into the Bannorn.

She remembered that day clearly. The absolute fascination and wonder of seeing small white flecks falling from the sky, seeing her own breath in front of her. It was winter well and true those few weeks, and Elissa oftentimes thought of it as a child. Not so much anymore, save a fleeting thought when they'd rencountered the fluffy stuff.

The childhood wonder, however, was replaced by a bitterness. Elissa was accustomed to warm weather and heavy rains, not biting wind and shivering. Snow and cold made camping difficult—if they didn't locate a properly sheltered area, their fires would be blown out no matter how many times they were lit and tents could be upended with one powerful gust.

She missed the smell of the sea. This freshwater, the lake, wasn't the same.

"Elissa?"

She forced her eyes open, realizing she was threatening to doze off. "Hmm?" A yawn threatened to close her eyes again, but Elissa stifled it. "Sorry, I'm just so...so tired."

How long had they been walking? An hour? Two? Three? What time was it? Elissa couldn't recall. By the time the three of them had returned to Redcliffe, Elissa's legs had been sore and her throat throbbed from so much talking. Memories had been shared—silly things Oren had done, dastardly deeds committed by Sam, pleasant but sad stories of their parents. Was that what family was like?

Leliana sat up on an elbow, fixating her gaze on Elissa. She still remembered that first time she'd really looked at the bard's eyes and how embarrassed she'd been to even think about Leliana. They'd been walking on the same very road they'd be walking on tomorrow. Elissa had been pouting over something stupid, as usual, and Leliana had taken it upon herself to annoy Elissa for what was probably the tenth time that day.

And then, Elissa had just... _looked,_ and part of her had known this was where they would end up. Leliana had such beautiful eyes; Elissa could get lost in them forever.

"What do you want to do when the Blight is over?"

Elissa frowned at the question. Hadn't they talked about this? Hadn't Elissa told her what she'd seen? "Leli—"

"Just humor me."

"Very well," Elissa said. She sighed and leaned back into her pillow. Leliana's eyes were still intently locked on her, but Elissa had to look away to think. "I want to go home, I think. Just to see it one last time, and then... I don't know. I told Aedan before I wanted to sail. To where, I don't know, but I don't think I could stand staying in Ferelden after all of this." She returned her gaze to the bard's, one eyebrow raised, and asked, "What are you going to do?"

Leliana almost laughed. "Me?"

"Humor me," Elissa repeated.

She made a face and returned to her own pillows, folding her arms under her head. "Return to Orlais, perhaps...or attempt to overcome my sea sickness."

Elissa averted her gaze almost instantly. "If it means anything, these dreams... They don't normally...happen."

"I am trying not to think about it."

Silence overtook them, and Elissa found herself at a loss for words. What was she supposed to say? She had said it herself; they have rarely, if ever, come to fruition. As a child, before her magic truly manifested, she would have them constantly, and not once had any of them been as real as her own death, but then, neither had any of them ever shown her something she hadn't seen before. Somehow she had known about Riordan, and she hadn't met him for a few days afterwards.

It had been so strangely specific Elissa feared the dream would come true.

She sat up. "Here, I want to give you something."

The guilt she'd been feeling for dragging Leliana into this, whatever they had, was insurmountable. She loved her, and it was such a sickening mistake to continue their relationship. It was so unfair, and yet, Elissa couldn't stop herself.

She went to her pack. There, buried under dirty linens and herbs, was her Warden pendant.

"What is it?" Leliana asked as Elissa placed it in her hands.

"All Grey Wardens receive these after they go through their Joining. We..." Elissa scratched the back of her head, briefly wondering if it would be right to share their secrets. "To become Wardens, we have to drink darkspawn blood. Some people die after ingesting it, and those that don't become Wardens. It's so we don't forget the sacrifices that got us here, I guess."

Leliana raised an eyebrow.

"That's what Alistair said, anyway."

For several minutes, Leliana was quiet. She just stared at the blood swishing around inside, swallowed once, twice, and then finally met Elissa's gaze.

"Thank you."


	45. Chapter 45

In the distance, a persistent ringing roused him from his sleep. It seemed so far away and yet so close. He had almost been able to sleep through it— _almost,_ but it was so abnormal and out-of-place that when he'd half woken, returning to his slumber was near impossible.

Groggy, he sat, swinging his legs over the edge of his cot and stifling a yawn. A stray piece of hay poked his thigh as he teetered to his feet.

The ringing was louder now that he was awake. It was just outside his bedroom wall. It was dull and shook him to his core, but still drunk from sleep, he couldn't place it.

He wondered if his papa was the source. Perhaps he'd slept in, and his father was making breakfast? But no, that wouldn't make sense. Moonlight was still leaking through the curtains of his window. It was late, late enough the moon was high in the sky.

But it was his best guess, so he stumbled into the kitchen. One hand came up, and as his vision focused, he jumped in shock. His skin was pale from an unfortunate amount of years cooped up inside of his home, and this skin was sun-kissed from months spent working on the docks.

No. This wasn't him. Her. She. She was in this man's body. What was her name again? Maker, it hurt to think.

The man seemed to be aware of her in the sense she was aware of the elf possessing her. He was frightened, confused, and so fucking tired she pitied him. She got the feeling he had spent his entire day working and wanted nothing more than to sleep, and now her dumbass was interrupting that.

She wondered if he could tell she was sorry.

The very thought seemed to calm him, but only slightly. He didn't understand, and then, she realized he didn't even know he was a mage. He'd never cast a spell in his life, and it was that realization that led her to believe this wasn't a man, but a kid, barely old enough to help his parents with upkeep of their home.

She found herself prodding in his head while he walked to what she assumed was the kitchen. He was nine, a worker for one of the warehouses on the northern dock. What was his name? Fenix?

Why the hell was a nine year old working? A nine year old's place was running amok and wreaking havoc on the streets in ways only children can.

He was an elf, wasn't he?

She felt him swallow, unnerved, and immediately she wanted nothing more than to apologize. She wanted to leave him, allow him some peace from the revelation she forced him to have, but she just didn't know _how._ She didn't even know how she got here.

They were in the kitchen now. One cupboard, one table with two chairs. A window was above said table, but the curtains were drawn shut. She could see his age now in his height: the table was just under his shoulder, but it would be waist-high for her.

Past the table and into the front room, they could hear a commotion. It sounded like someone moving their belongings around. Were they being robbed, he thought?

She knew it couldn't be that. Part of her knew what this was, what she was seeing, but she didn't remember.

As they left the kitchen, light from his father's room poured into the front. A door sat against a wall with a coat rack that had seen one-too-many winters. A dirty mirror hung beside it, and next to that was a bare rack that looked like it held a bow. She could see no such thing, but when she returned her attention to what Fenix was seeing, she found it.

His father was bundling blankets and his favorite coat up. The bow was on the bare floor beside him and a quiver was slung hastily over one shoulder.

"What's happening?"

Papa looked up, startled, but then breathed a sigh of relief. "I didn't know you were awake." White hair fell to his shoulders in neat tresses, too neat and too clean for the clothes hanging on his body. Dirt smeared a tunic that looked like it was white one day. The edges of his trousers were torn and smeared with mud, and there was a tear halfway up his calf. The buckles on his shoes were rusted over from years of use.

He stood, revealing a wicked scar down his jaw. Grey eyes settled on them as he set a hand on their shoulder, and she feared he knew something was wrong with his son. Something passed over his face.

"We have to leave," he said.

The confusion Fenix was feeling deepened. "But why?" As he asked the question, his father turned back around to finish his preparations, and they took a step after him. "What's happening?"

"The guards are preparing for something, son," he said, tightening a strap over a bedroll. "I suspect the horde has been sighted somewhere nearby."

Wait, was this happening _right now?_

Fear consumed the boy, threatening to leak over to her, but she hastily threw up a wall between them, distancing herself from him.

"Have you watched the sailors like I told you to?"

Papa stood, walking to the coat rack, and took off a heavy jacket that was probably far too expensive for any of the three of them to afford. He returned to his son and wrapped it around the boy's shoulders, fastening each buckle quickly.

"Have you?" he demanded, shaking the loose fabric.

Fenix jumped, startled, and nodded. "Where are we going?"

He checked the boy's coat again, straightened it and smoothed it out, and then looked his son in the eyes. "We're going to go north. Kirkwall, perhaps, or maybe Starkhaven. We don't want to be in Ferelden right now."

"But mama—"

"Do not speak of her, boy," he snapped aggressively. She felt Fenix's fear as her own, equally surprised and startled at the outburst. He was usually a quiet and timid man, but this...he never got angry when he spoke of mama. After a few quiet moments, the father sighed again. "I'm sorry. But we have to go. She wouldn't want us to stay here and d...get hurt."

The boy nodded, and without question, went to get his boots on. His small hands shook violently—he was nauseous now, wondering what could possibly frighten his father so much that he snapped.

The darkspawn, of course, but they couldn't get through the walls, could they? The city was a fortress. They had to be safe here.

"Here." Their father handed them a smaller pack that she hadn't originally seen. They opened the flap, peeking inside to see a small coin purse, gloves, a hat, a canteen, and a few meager rolls of bread, all neatly and hastily stowed away. "I want you to go to the docks and find the dingy Carter uses for his smuggling. You know where it is, right?"

She briefly saw a small boat floating in a drain, moored to the end of a drain pipe.

They nodded and he ruffled their hair affectionately. "Good man. If you can't get there, I'll meet you in our hidey hole in an hour. I have something to attend to before we leave, okay?"

They nodded again. "Yes, sir."

The straps of the bag fit perfectly on their shoulders. They'd been preparing for this for months; every coin, every scrap of money they had, went into supplies for this inevitable outcome. Their father had known it was coming. Fenix had known it was coming. Come as it might, he still didn't believe the darkspawn could get into the city, and he was still sure they would be safe. The soldiers would protect them.

Oh, the innocence, she thought.

As they crept out the door, the sounds of panic throughout the city increased. People yelling and screaming, the faint rumbling of marching feet, the bells tolling. Elves were frantically running around their great tree, and then she understood. The poverty, the working at an extremely young age. They were elves. This was the Alienage.

She watched as the boy ran between the cluster of homes, under a rickety fence behind a shop, and away from the crowds of guards and elves. Here it was quieter, but just on the other side of the homes, they could still hear the frantic rushing to prepare for...something.

As they ran, a pair of voices stood out from the rest. She could hear them whispering in an aggressive tone. She heard the words "dragon" and "Archdemon" and felt the boy's heart skip a beat.

No no no no no, she urged. Tried to urge. She felt his feet slow, his legs freezing up in terror, and it took everything she had to encourage him to keep going, to be brave and to follow his father's directions. It was so easy to just _reach_ and make this body hers as much as it was his. It would be so easy. She could feel the power there, lurking just under the surface, begging her to overcome him and propel him to safety.

She recoiled at the thought, withdrawing far into the recesses of his mind, and again, she felt him panic. What was happening to him?

What was happening to her? Was this what it was? Was this what was wrong with her? Was some mage reaching across the continent and taking control of her actions? Was that what was happening?

No. This elf had too many memories. She knew things, knew people and places and all sorts of different styles of combat she couldn't even decipher.

But here, with Fenix, it was quiet. Peaceful. There was no nagging sensation in the back of her mind alerting her to the elf's presence. There was...nothing, except blissful, wonderful silence. It was so beautiful she thought they might end up crying because of her. It was such a welcome relief to be in control of oneself, to _be_ the one with the overwhelming feelings and desires. It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

And then, she became aware of Fenix's fear again, his confusion about what this was, his deep hatred of magic and his own disgust with the revelation he himself was a mage. What the elf was doing to her, she was doing to him.

She wondered if the elf felt the same regret she did.

Once they'd finally fought their way out of the crowds in the market and into the residential streets, he broke into a sprint, again ducking behind the homes. The further they progressed, the less and less guards they saw. The less candle and torchlight they saw coming from inside.

These people were already gone. _Fucking humans._

The disdain was his, the words were hers.

He ran as long as his legs could carry him, but he was growing winded in a way she hadn't felt in years. His lungs screamed, ached, tightened like her throat did when she was embarrassed.

He started to panic again. Not now, he begged. Please Maker, not now.

She could feel the tightness in his chest, simply...massaged it away. It took a few steps, but she worked, fighting to release the tension from him and draw it into herself. And as she did, she felt his relief as his footsteps began quickening in pace. She poured her own energy into him, practically willing him forward, and again, she wondered if this was what the elf did to her.

The closer they grew to the docks, the more he was praying Carter, whoever he was, was still imprisoned. If he couldn't get to his tiny boat, he couldn't flee, and if he was in jail, then he couldn't get to his boat.

Despair as their eyes fell on the lame rope. Anger as they realized they were stuck here. Terror as they realized they were trapped, and the darkspawn were coming.

* * *

Elissa woke with a start, chest heaving and lungs screaming in pain. Almost immediately she was greeted with mild concern from the elf, but after some odd poking and prodding, the presence retreated. A strange sense of satisfaction and pride emanated from that tiny corner of herself. What it could be proud of, though, Elissa didn't want or care to know.

"Elissa?"

She shot straight out of her skin at the sound of her own name. She had forgotten what it was when she was with that boy. The elf, Fenix? She could hardly remember that was his name, or any details about him, but she remembered the dream, if that's what you could call it, vividly. Every sight, every smell, every sound. It was...disturbing.

As her surroundings came into focus, Elissa quickly recognized their camp and the campfire, one of hundreds, before her tent.

"Are you all right?"

The edges of everything were still blurry, but she knew the hazy shape standing in front of her was Leliana.

Her mouth was dry, but then...hadn't she been drinking?

Elissa looked down, hands searching until she found her canteen. The lid was still off, banging off the side of the metal. All of her water had poured into the grass.

"I...I don't know," Elissa admitted.

"You've been sitting here, staring off into the sky, for almost an hour."

Elissa blinked, rolled her shoulders so quickly it cracked her neck too, as she got to her feet. Her head swam. Leliana caught her by the shoulders as she staggered.

"Do you need to go see Wynne?"

Panic. "No, please Maker anybody _but_ Wynne."

Leliana looked at her like she'd grown a second head. After what just happened, Elissa wouldn't have argued if Leliana said she had, either. How was any of that possible?

"What's wrong?"

She blinked, struggling to get rid of the blurriness and confusion. It was like she'd just woken up from a nap. Her muscles cramped everywhere. Everything about being inside of her own body again felt strange. It was like she needed to readjust.

"I think I just..." Elissa let out a breath. "You're going to think I'm crazy, but I think I just possessed some kid in Denerim."

Leliana's mouth opened a bit, like she intended to speak, and then immediately closed as she squinted at her. "So...Morrigan, then?"

Elissa nodded once. The witch had been the one to tell them she might be a dreamer, whatever that meant, so it was likely Morrigan also knew what kind of magic this was.

As soon as Elissa took a step after the bard, the ground rushed up under her and her legs crumpled. Elissa caught herself on her palms, felt the presence inside of her in a way she hadn't before as it reached out to her gently, reimbuing her muscles with the strength they needed to work.

Leliana helped her to her feet regardless. One arm looped around her chest as the other pulled her upright. Maker, she was so strong it should've been illegal.

"Maybe you should catch your breath first."

Maker, that _accent._ Elissa would've melted right then and there if there weren't people ten feet away.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Elissa puffed, sitting right back down where she'd started. "You're smart, Leli."

The bard huffed a snort of amusement. "Or perhaps you're just stupid."

Elissa waved a finger. "That's also a good idea."

Leliana sat beside her as Elissa drew her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them. All around were tents. Some had candles glowing inside, others were dark. People, humans, elves, dwarves, mages, templars, all milled around aimlessly, chatting with friends or strangers.

Less than twelve hours. Elissa could feel the tension in the air. She could see it in their faces, every single one of them. In less than twelve hours, the fate of Ferelden would be decided.

"Have I told you I love you yet?" Elissa asked abruptly.

Leliana made a face. "I'm sorry?"

"Have I? I thought I said it before, after we...uh..." The moment of boldness was gone now as Elissa thought back to the first time they'd had sex, and she felt her cheeks redden from embarrassment. Leliana hadn't been able to keep her hands off her since they left Redcliffe, and while Elissa wasn't exactly complaining, she thought it might be Leliana's way of coping with her worries.

"I want you to know," Elissa decided.

Leliana laughed, hiding her face by looking away, but Elissa thought she might've seen a blush on her cheeks, too.

"Someday I'll teach you Orlesian," Leliana said. "Then you might be able to understand the things I whisper to you while you sleep."

Elissa blinked, and then frowned. "You...talk to me while I sleep?"

Leliana still didn't look at her. "I...I am afraid to say it again, I think. If you..." Her voice caught in her throat, but she recovered quickly. "If you die, not saying it will make it easier, yes?" The question just hung there, not really meant to have an answer, but Elissa suspected Leliana didn't believe it would make the loss any easier, and that she was just trying to pretend it would for her sake.

Elissa knew she'd already said it. She knew as well as she knew that she'd said it herself. It was one time, said after a brief moment of passion, before falling asleep after an exhausting day. Elissa hadn't meant for Leliana to hear it; Leliana hadn't meant for Elissa to hear it.

Love just complicated things. It made this harder. It made Elissa feel guilty for persisting long enough it turned into this. It made things...strange for her.

Sex never had any strings attached. It was always one night of excitement, followed by a morning of disappointment mixed with satisfaction.

And then there was Leliana, crashing into her life like a wave against a stone. Leliana had been so friendly, whether or not the intention had originally been pure, and had such a welcoming demeanor it had been hard to not befriend her. It started out innocently enough, sure—Leliana hadn't wanted Alistair to be subjected to babysitting a petulant child. Then they took to talking, and on the rare chance Elissa decided to actually participate, Leliana eventually started throwing in little things, flirting, and it was _terrifying._

"You're an ass, y'know that?" Elissa said.

Leliana scoffed. "And what have I done now, dear Warden?"

"If you hadn't been doing...whatever it was you were doing, we wouldn't have wound up in this mess."

"True," Leliana agreed. "It made it all the more fun, no?"

She threw up her hands in annoyance. "I just feel so wrong."

Leliana returned her attention to Elissa now, eyes a little watery, and Elissa wondered if she'd been crying. "And why's that?"

"You were just fucking with me because I was an asshole," Elissa exclaimed. "I deserved it, but fuck, now we have... _this,_ and I feel guilty for falling in love with you knowing I'm going to _die._ You don't deserve that and neither do I."

"Please stop talking about this."

"How am I supposed to?" Elissa demanded.

"I don't know," Leliana retorted. "Please, just...stop. I don't want to think about it."

"But—"

Leliana stood abruptly. "I don't want to talk about it."

And without another word, the bard disappeared into the camp, leaving Elissa feeling worse than before.


	46. Chapter 46

Once, twice, thrice, four times, five times.

Something felt out of place. Elissa couldn't put her finger on it, but something felt like it was missing. She had emptied her belongings so many times in the last hour only to immediately repack them, tear them apart again, and then repeat it all over.

Linen for any wounds that would waste Wynne's or Morrigan's energy. Check. Three rolls. That would be plenty. Water in case she had the chance to get a drink, but she doubted she would. She checked the cap's tightness every time she unpacked and repacked, and every time it was satisfactory. She had discarded her whetstone on two separate occasions, but had just readded it only to remove it now. They were cheap, and it's not like she would spend any time sharpening her sword during a battle.

She'd located an extra container of a healing salve and tucked it safely between two rolls of cloth along with her original. It was almost depleted. Elissa couldn't remember how many she'd bought just for herself, but then, they lasted a surprisingly long time, even for people constantly in battle. She supposed they had Wynne and Morrigan to thank for that, but it was mostly Wynne. The mage knew how to make rudimentary ones when they were too far from any apothecaries. Elissa preferred to save these proper ones for a real emergency.

It felt odd to remove extra clothes and food from her bag. She felt so much lighter, so free, and yet so wrong. Less weight meant she'd tire slower, but Elissa still had to think about repacking those very things she'd just removed.

Elissa shook her head at herself and got to her feet. No. She was wasting time. She was anxious and doing this wouldn't help her relax any. Neither would pacing, which was what she had been doing prior to the obsessive reorganizing, but it had to have been better.

After running a hand through her hair, Elissa decided to get dressed. They would be leaving within the hour. As soon as their scouts returned, the army would assemble and they would march.

She was restless.

It didn't feel real. How long had it been since she was woken in the middle of the night to Sam's angry barking? How long since Ostagar, since their Joining? How long had she been a Warden?

Elissa swallowed at the thought. This could've been over a year ago, but Loghain had to turn his back on King Cailan and the Grey Wardens. Even if they had lost, it had to have been better than this, right?

No, Elissa thought, running both hands down her face now. Having no army whatsoever wouldn't have been a better outcome.

She let out a puff of breath and sat solidly on the ground. Her eyes fell on the pile of neatly folded jackets and chain, and the leather plates and shield beside it. How long had she been such a neat freak?

No, she was a messy person. She just cared for certain things—they all had their place and if she didn't put them there it would drive her crazy.

Elissa stood back up almost as soon as she sat. Off came her boots and her sword, quickly replaced with thinner but firmer socks and her shirt of chainmail. Several holes larger than chinks dotted the garment, but it had been a while since they'd visited a blacksmith, and Elissa lacked the skill to fix such damage. She could've just gone and purchased a new shirt, or forgone it entirely, but...was it wrong to admit she had grown attached? This piece of armor had come with her all the way from Highever. It had protected her for over two years now and she was loathe to rid herself of it. There was even a blackened section on a shoulder from where the last dragon they'd fought caught her with a tuft of fire.

She had been lucky to escape that without any serious injury. She prayed it would remain that way, that she would wake up tomorrow morning perfectly fine and safe, knowing that the Archdemon was dead.

Riordan said it was his and Loghain's duty. They were the oldest—the taint wouldn't spare either for long.

Elissa still felt as if she wasn't lucky enough to escape this alive. She, out of all of them, was the most qualified to take that blow, wasn't she? She had little care for the Wardens, save that they saved her, and she wasn't a respected general in the Ferelden army or the one in line for the throne.

She swallowed and pushed the thoughts away, realizing she was standing in the middle of her tent, half dressed.

After securing her chainmail, Elissa crouched to put her boots back on. She tucked her pants into her socks to make tucking the trousers into the boots easier, and then twisted her feet a bit to free them enough that she was comfortable. It had been a science, getting that exactly right. If the tuck was too tight, turning or twisting at the ankle was awkward the first few times and could be just enough to throw her off in a fight. If her pants were too loose or not tucked in at all, the fabric could get caught on anything and that would be just as big an inconvenience.

Once she was satisfied, Elissa pulled her breastplate on. It was always difficult to get it on properly alone, but she managed, and then pulled the jacket on over top of it. It also sported its fair share of holes, tears, and stains. Most of it came from the darkspawn they found themselves encountering more and more after she'd received this. It was such fine craftsmanship that Elissa almost felt guilty wearing it into battle.

Rather than complain, however, Elissa simply fastened the clasp across her chest. That was where her armor varied from Aedan's and Alistair's—her jacket was designed to sit overtop of the chest piece. It was more of a half-shirt as it didn't cover the chest, but ended right above it. Theirs went under it so a larger and bulkier chestplate could be worn, and was actually a jacket. It was part of the reason she wore two shirts under her chainmail. It got fucking cold.

Then went her gloves, and finally, her vambrace. Elissa didn't wear one on her shield arm. It would make her arm too stiff, and even though that was technically the idea behind strapping the shield into place, it would, again, be uncomfortable. It was better to give her sword arm a little extra protection and forgo her other.

She messed with the collar of the jacket until the hood sat right, pulled her tassets over her knees and hips to sit on her waist, tightened that belt until it almost hurt, and then finished with her sword belt.

Maker, did it take forever to get ready. Her hands shook with every motion, and getting her breastplate on would've felt like an accomplishment had she not done it numerous times in the past.

Elissa still had the better part of an hour to kill, and boredom brought anxiety and fear. She double checked the bag on her hip, threw her shield onto her back, and decided a walk would help her clear her mind.

She wondered if this was how her father had felt before battle. She wondered if her mother had felt this dread, this overwhelming sense of anxiety. Elissa could feel it in her throat, constricting so tightly she could hardly breathe. She wondered how they managed to endure it. She wondered how anyone did.

Her eyes roamed over the various men and women wandering about. Only humans here. The elves and dwarves were content to separate themselves from the humans. The point was clear—they were here for themselves and their treaties, and if they hadn't been required, it was likely neither party would've come at all.

She wondered if they too felt this dread.

The faces she saw...it was clear the humans did. Almost every tent had been broken down with their owners milling around the neat stacks impatiently. The sounds of their footfalls was deafening. No words were being spoken in anything above a whisper, and no eyes lifted from the blackened dirt.

When they had travelled on this road before, it was green and full of life. Flowers bloomed away from the treeline, winding all the way up above her waist.

Now the road was the same uniform black as the rest of it. The darkspawn were a plague. Even the trees looked sick. No leaves on their branches, and no piles on the ground, having been blown away long ago by the wind.

Everything was gray. It was depressing.

If this was why people deserted, Elissa understood. This feeling threatened to suffocate her. Even the wind that blew ferociously through Ferelden on any other given day was silent now, and she found herself wishing she had that much to hold on to.

Elissa hadn't set out with a destination in mind. She had set out to distract herself, but she found herself before a pavilion regardless. Underneath stood Arl Eamon, Loghain, Queen Anora, Riordan, and her brother. The latter of the group looked paler and scruffier than usual, but he also seemed the least interested in their heated conversation, and when his eyes fell on her, Aedan beckoned her to join.

This felt...worse, somehow, than her walk. She didn't belong in this group of people. She was just Elissa, and these were the people that would decide Ferelden's fate should they defeat the Blight.

She dodged Eamon's shoulder before she even saw it turning into her, ducking so quickly that when she stood he was still in the middle of his shift.

"Ah," he said, surprised. "Good morning, my lady."

Elissa cringed as she joined Aedan. How many times had she truly spoken to the man? Twice? When was the last time she'd even been called that?

Aedan, who had one of his eyebrows raised in a silent question, said, "Good morning, sister."

Elissa just nodded her greeting and took a seat in the empty chair beside him. He had likely only just stood up from the seat himself, but Elissa decided she would claim it anyway. They'd been in the middle of some discussion, the five of them, and she didn't want to interrupt.

She listened idly at first, content to just be nosy, but after a few minutes, their arguments faded into the background. Elissa didn't even know what they were talking about. It had to be some strategem, something important that she might actually have been smart to listen to, but their voices were so far away, and she was so...

The world was melting. It fell apart before her very eyes, and was rebuilt just as quickly. She watched in confused horror as Aedan's face turned into a wooden plank, shrouded in darkness.

The despair she was feeling was replaced with fear, and before she truly understood what was happening, Elissa jolted herself back to the present with a simple clear of her throat.

"Did you have something to add?"

Elissa blinked, trying to get her eyes to focus and finding herself looking to Aedan. He was very much a person. Very much less...woody. She hadn't had the time to realize how much louder it had been there, with the wooden plank Aedan turned into, but Maker, was she glad for this peace now.

"W-what was that, I'm sorry?"

"We were talking about how to retake the city," Aedan said slowly.

"Yes, your brother volunteered to retake the market district while my father would take through the southern parts of Denerim," Anora added.

Elissa frowned, but shook her head. It was happening again. It was almost like a...a voice was dragging her away, but it wasn't even a drag. It was like...a plea?

Anora was melting this time, but before she turned into some object, Elissa stood abruptly.

"Sister?"

Elissa felt Aedan's hand wrap around her arm, but she pulled away. "I'm not feeling well. I'm sorry."

She watched the ground tremble as her foot fell, lurch so wildly she barely kept her footing, and suddenly the dirt was a sand-covered wooden floor. Her boots and feet were smaller, and again, her hands went from gloved to bare, tanned skin.

A strange sense of relief, and then Elissa jerked away. The camp came back into focus as her odd staggering returned to a walk. A sea of tents, of men and women, soldiers, and a foreign sense of relief.

This feeling wasn't hers. It wasn't the worried presence's in her head. It was new.

Elissa felt like she was being torn back to that boy. Even the elf seemed confused by this indescribable pull to him. Elissa didn't understand it. She was scared of it, whatever it was. The elf, both the one possessing her and the one she was fighting away, were scared of it, too.

How was she supposed to fight like this?

Again, she snapped herself back to reality. Her reality. Whatever that boy was experiencing...it was either a dream, or it was his own reality, but it wasn't hers. She wasn't him. She _wasn't._

Elissa swallowed. What was happening to her? What was happening to any of them? What kind of sick magic was this?

"Hey."

Aedan's hand fell on her shoulder, trying to turn her, and Elissa jumped back. He jumped too, equally surprised by her reaction as she was by his appearance.

"Are you all right?" he asked. Concern riddled his features. He looked like their father when he made that face.

"I..." Elissa let the word, the syllable, hang, unsure of how to answer. She had tried to tell Leliana about this, but she'd said something wrong, and they'd fought. Elissa didn't even remember about what. Elissa could hardly remember the day before, or all the days before that. She could hardly recall much of anything at the moment.

"Yes," Elissa decided.

Aedan frowned. "Are...you sure? You've been acting...strange."

Elissa nodded. "We have a dragon to kill, do we not? I expect many people would be acting strangely in our position."

"Uh...sure, I suppose," Aedan agreed. He looked her over once, and over his shoulder, Elissa thought she saw fire. When she blinked, it was gone. The boy, that kid, what was his name? He was in danger. She could feel it. "You should, uh, get some rest and some food before we leave."

Elissa nodded again, squeezing her eyes shut as soon as he turned his back.

Behind her eyelids, green light exploded.


	47. Chapter 47

The ground itself seemed to shake under the bellows of the dragon. Perhaps it was just from the sheer number of feet marching across the dirt. Perhaps it was from the walls crumbling into the forest and sea, or perhaps it was just the hammering of her own heart in her skull.

Elissa squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply. She could do this. _They_ could do this. This was what they'd spent the better part of the last year building up to. This was the end. The Blight ended today, either for Ferelden, or for all of Thedas.

The latter would be ideal.

For the tenth time since waking, Elissa checked that her shield was secured on her arm. Her hand shook as she pulled on the leather straps, pulling so tight it hurt through her chainmail. Her eyes caught the old, faded laurel wreath sewn into the linen over the shield, and swallowed past a lump in her throat.

A year ago, this shield sat in the armory of her family's ancestral home. This sword sat in their vault. This armor wasn't even a twinkle in Owen's eye. None of this was real, save her and her brother, and the voice in her head.

Now this was reality. Only a few hundred feet away stood thousands upon thousands of darkspawn, a dragon, and so, so many corpses. Refugees lined the side of the road every time they arrived in Denerim. Caravans of wagons and people, and now they were reduced to piles of flesh and cinder, rotting away.

The smell alone would've been enough to make Elissa hurl had she eaten. Maker be praised she had seen enough bodies to barely pay them any attention these days.

She thought she'd grown desensitized to the smell of death until the darkspawn attacked Redcliffe. Then she thought she'd truly known it and that it couldn't ever be worse, but here they were—surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of dead bodies. Humans and animals alike, and from where she was standing, Elissa could see that the beasts had ripped flesh from bone.

Elissa had spent the last year conveniently ignoring the fact that darkspawn would eat anything so long as it sucked air. This made it nearly impossible to forget.

Anora's voice tore her back to the present, but Elissa was still so very far away. The queen's voice should've been sharp, should've cut through the wind effortlessly, but she, for all her willpower, couldn't hear a damn thing.

It was odd to see Anora here. Nothing about it was surprising; her father was the Hero of River Dane and now a Grey Warden. He had been one of two teyrns in all of Ferelden. It would've been stranger to know she had no martial training whatsoever, to see her stay behind in Redcliffe should the battle go sour, but something about Anora being here still struck Elissa.

Elissa was on the edge of the front line, having marched with Aedan, Loghain, and Anora herself. The woman was only a few feet away, standing atop a wagon with a smashed axle, yelling something at the men and women behind her.

It was so unnervingly quiet, and yet, Elissa heard nothing. She was so focused on the monsters awaiting them outside the walls, so focused on the dragon flying menacingly around Fort Drakon, so focused on her brother's face as he stared at his queen.

Such devotion. She could see it in his eyes. Much of his time in Denerim had been spent with her, likely trying to convince her that their plan had been the best course of action and the one most likely to garner support from the nobility. Much of his time the last few months had been spent knowing that day would be coming, knowing he was only a short while away from meeting that girl he'd always had feelings for.

She wondered if thinking of her was what kept him going in much the same way thinking of Leliana kept her going.

Elissa felt something cold worm its way into her hand—it was Aedan's own gloved fist, and when she turned away from the burning city to him, she could see the fear in his eyes.

Elissa had never seen Aedan look so scared in all their lives. One of them was likely walking to their certain demise, if not both, and both siblings knew it could likely be the last time they saw each other. That little squeeze meant the world to her. He forgave her.

She swallowed and returned her gaze to Denerim. Fires were blazing so high she could see flames over the wall, but she found herself unperturbed. Something about Aedan and that squeeze was all she needed to steel her nerves.

She forgave him too. For the arguments, for allowing Loghain to live, for everything she might've ever blamed him for. He was a good brother and a good man, and Elissa didn't want to die hating him.

"You'll come to the wedding, right?" Aedan asked softly. "And the coronation?"

Elissa blinked away tears as the wind gusted. She didn't understand. Why would he ask such things, knowing they would likely never happen?

"Of course, dear brother."

She could lie for him. He was worth so much more than that, but that was all she could give.

Anora was now leaping down to join them, drawing her sword from the large scabbard slung across her shoulders. Elissa had never thought of the queen as a broad woman, but to weild a weapon of that size...

" _For Ferelden! For the Grey Wardens!_ "

The cry that erupted from the army behind her was deafening. So many voices, so many screams and yells. She was sure her ears would be ringing for days to come.

Elissa didn't recall the charge. One second, she was drawing her sword, and the next, she was halfway down the hill, hot on her brother's heels as he barrelled onward. She didn't remember him putting his helmet on and fully encasing himself from the outside world. She didn't remember Alistair being at her side, but here he was. She didn't remember Anora rejoining them, either, for that matter.

At their cries, the darkspawn outside the gates turned to face them. There weren't many—only a few disorganized packs, maybe a few hundred, but oh Maker, was that enough to give her pause.

Elissa didn't allow herself to stop running, and instead, forced herself to catch up to Aedan. He and Loghain were breaking away from the pack, trying to match the speed of the spearhead, and she didn't want to lose them. Not for Loghain's benefit, but her brother's.

The only reason that man made it this far was for Aedan.

The army's battle cries had been like the sounds of waves crashing on stone, but the eruption of metal striking flesh as the two forces collided was like a hurricane. The collision was as confusing as the currents and water spouts, and Elissa got lost and disoriented within mere seconds. She hadn't even crossed swords with any of the beasts until a full minute after they reached the walls, and at that point, she had lost sight of anyone she recognized.

As she ripped her sword through the chest of a genlock, the familiar sound of wing beats overwhelmed the screams. Elissa could feel it in the very earth, feel it in her chest as the dirt vibrated.

Overhead, the black mass of the Archdemon soared into the battle. It flew past the wall, towards the road, and with a mighty roar, it rained fire upon the men and women still rushing to meet them.

Elissa felt her heart stop. She didn't know where Leliana was in this mess, or where anyone she cared about was. At least Aedan and Alistair were somewhere ahead of her, but _where was Leliana?_

_Move._

She did. The battle snapped back to the forefront of her mind, and Elissa threw herself away from an axe as it split the air where she had just stood. The hurlock on the other end of it screamed in her face as she reeled. It reverted quickly, bringing the hand axe around in a short arc, and Elissa ducked behind her shield. The head bounced off at an odd angle. While it recoiled, she lunged forward and drove her sword into its chest.

Somewhere, somehow, she heard voices.

"Take the gates!"

The phrase spread through them like a disease. Soon enough, Elissa could hear the words being shouted behind her too, and as the hive shifted its focus, the dragon came back. Fire rippled from its jaw in much the same way it could shoot from a mage's hands. Bodies of the living and the dead erupted into flames as people and darkspawn surged into the city, and in the blink of an eye, they had been cut off.

Elissa looked on in horror as the fire spread, overtaking anyone who stood too close. She was several yards away, still battling with the creatures, but Elissa could feel the heat regardless. It made her sweat.

She caught a sword on her shield as she slashed at a shriek. It danced away. Elissa disengaged from the hurlock on her left and pressed the shriek, battering it with her shield before turning and chopping through the hurlock's sword arm.

It was then she realized the world was slowing around her. Voices and cries were distorted, garbled nonsense. The darkspawn clutching at its arm, screaming, was still falling to its knees. The shriek was still recovering. Fire was spreading, edging closer and closer to them, and out of the corner of her eye, Elissa could see several robe-clad figures trying to make their way to the front.

Elissa snapped. She felt that coil in her stomach tighten, and just like that, everything came back into focus. Now, however, that coil shifted to a burn in her muscles, and she sprang into action. Finishing off the hurlock was effortless—her sword cut through its throat like a knife to butter, and the shriek put up even less resistance.

It should be easy. She'd done this before, once, in the Deep Roads. That fire was more linear, but this blazed hotter and was spreading so quickly it threatened to cut them off entirely if someone didn't get it under control.

As Elissa neared the epicenter, she saw the familiar form of a raven plummetting to the ground. At the last possible second, Morrigan erupted from the bird in a puff of feathers. Frost was already dripping from her fingertips, but her spell did little to quell the flames.

She had done this once before. She _could_ do this again.

Elissa slowed as a mage raced past, throwing his staff to the ground. In about two seconds, he'd seemingly pulled the air from the flames before him, and they simply...evaporated.

"Come on!"

Aedan. He was alongside her now, Alistair in tow. And just as quickly as he was there, both were gone, pushing through the small opening the man had just created.

Elissa didn't hesitate to rush after them. She leapt over a small pile of what was little more than burnt flesh, and then turned parallel to the wall, and raced toward the gates. They were open for whatever reason, but as she pulled up behind her fellow Wardens, the trap began to make sense.

At least twenty crossbows and bows were aimed on the trio. Before anyone could move, the projectiles were released, and the responsibility fell on her.

She could feel that stirring inside of her again. Right before she needed to use magic, it would always be there, and it was now. The air rippled at her behest. It snapped and shimmered, and the next thing she and the darkspawn knew, there was a thin, invisible barrier between them and their arrows.

The things clattered uselessly to the cobblestone. It happened so quickly that Aedan and Alistair were still in the process of slowing in shock, but one quick look back to her, and the pair was charging forward again.

Behind them, the forces had managed to defeat the darkspawn outside the walls, and the mages had extinguished the flames. In one, deep, horrifying bellow Elissa was sure she'd never forget, the entirety of the army began yelling.

She found her own voice joining in as they surged through the gates.

" _For Ferelden!_ "


	48. Chapter 48

That nagging feeling of being watched couldn't be escaped. No matter how far or how fast Elissa ran, it followed her. Through every street they reclaimed, every house she searched for survivors, it followed her. She fled it, ran south after Loghain and Riordan instead of north with Aedan and Alistair. She was desperate to be free of it. Perhaps it was just the Archdemon unnerving her at every turn, or perhaps it was the sheer number of darkspawn in the city. It seemed for every one of them, there would be five or more darkspawn waiting for them.

Thankfully the darkspawn weren't quite intelligent enough to use that to their advantage.

Elissa didn't remember when she got separated from the other Wardens. It had to have been ages ago. She hadn't seen Loghain's silver plate amongst the sea of bodies for at least an hour—or it felt like an hour. She wasn’t sure how long this had been going on. For all Elissa knew, an entire day could have passed and she would have been none the wiser. 

This…it was exhausting. No battle or fight she had ever participated in had ever lasted as long as this. Her arms burned and ached from overuse. Every sword and axe she caught on her shield sent pain lancing through her muscles. Every duel she engaged in threatened to knock her sword from her hand. Her thighs strained from her own weight, but when someone or something leaned on her, it wouldn’t take much to knock her off her feet. 

Elissa had expected this to be as bad—or worse—as the Deep Roads. No amount of mental preparation would have prepared her for this. Even her breaths were strained. She could feel it in her shoulders; it reminded her of Fenix and his breathing problem. Truth be told, his issue had been worse, and she was just grateful she did not have to experience it again. 

Ideally. Whatever had drawn her from her own dreams and into him, she would likely never know, but she was content to stay here, in her own body. Achy as it might be, this was who she was, and she liked it that way. 

A sense of sadness welled up within her as she dodged a genlock’s daggers. The elf. Had the thought made her sad? It must have. Elissa didn’t think such things would upset herself. Knowing that voice, feeling, whatever the elf was, was still with her was strangely comforting. She had been quiet for a while now. It was good knowing if Elissa got herself into a hole too deep to save herself from, she had some form of backup. 

As she ran, chasing after a swarm of bodies, people and darkspawn alike, Elissa began to recognize the streets. The boy had ran down this very road at his father’s behest. It was the one he’d almost collapsed on, and if she tried hard enough, Elissa was sure she would be able to return to the Alienage from here. 

She swallowed as she realized that feeling wasn’t one of being watched, but a pull, dragging her after him. She could still see the sewer pipe and the rope that held every hope he had held, still felt the anger and pain knowing he would be trapped here. 

But if this feeling was truly pulling her towards him, that meant he was alive, and she could get him out of here, couldn’t she? She had to. Not that she particularly felt obligated, but something told her she needed to. Was it that stupid elf? 

Elissa did not argue. Instead, she simply went, diverting her path from that of the soldiers, and began to retrace Fenix’s path. It was short and straightforward for him, but now there were darkspawn around every corner, and it felt like it took her ages just to cross a street. 

Overhead, she heard the dragon roar. It flew towards the sea, hugging the walls of the city, and faintly, Elissa thought she saw someone leap off a tower and onto its back. The dragon strained in surprise, threatening to fall out of the sky, but in the same instant, it bucked. To their credit, the person didn’t lose their grip, and managed to ride it until Elissa couldn’t make them out any further. Another buck, however, and the dragon dislodged the figure. In a valiant attempt to stay on its back, they swung their sword out and missed its hide by mere inches. Rather, the weapon caught the beast’s wing, and as they inevitably fell back to the earth, the dragon’s wing was ripped open wide. The screech that left its maw was almost louder than the cries the army had made as it charged the city. 

It spiralled for a moment, flapping desperately to regain altitude, but it didn’t make it very far, and after a few fruitless attempts, it fell. A roar split the air as it crashed onto Fort Drakon. 

It was grounded. There was no escape for the thing, and she was sure it knew it. 

Something in her chest gave and Elissa felt her heart leap with a bitter excitement. The Archdemon would die today. It would be impossible to escape them, so long as one of them could make it there. She didn’t doubt they could, either. The darkspawn were something they had all been accustomed to fighting. If they managed to stick together, she was sure Aedan and Alistair would reach the dragon. 

Not that she wanted them to. Elissa was determined to be the one to kill it. Ferelden needed her brother, and as much as she hated to admit, it needed Loghain as well. The Wardens would need Alistair and Rirodan, and unfortunately, that left her as the lone one capable of making the sacrifice. 

Elissa didn’t want to die, but it had to be her, and she had tried to make her peace with that. Eventually she gave up. No part of her would ever be ready to die, but she hoped,  _ prayed,  _ that Leliana would be able to understand. She hoped she would forgive her. Leliana was the one—the  _ only _ — thing that made Elissa doubt this choice, but not even the bard could change her mind. 

A Cousland always did their duty, and this was hers. 

She took a step forward, eyes locked on the fort, but a scream drew her attention away. Only a street over, or maybe two. She could be there in seconds if she really tried, so she did. Shrieks tried to stop her, but Elissa barrelled through them, ducking and rolling beneath their claws. 

The ground shook. Somewhere, between her and that scream, was an ogre. She could hear its massive footsteps, hear it as it smashed through a wooden shack. 

If that leash wasn't pulling her this way, Elissa would've turned around. She had one job to do, and this person and that ogre weren't going to stand between her and fate. 

Unfortunately for her, the person it was chasing just so happened to be the boy she was looking for. How convenient!

Elissa fought the urge to roll her eyes. Rather, she stood a little straighter, tensed her muscles so she could move a little faster, and shouted, "Hey!" 

The ogre turned, teeth gnashing in anger, as Fenix ran behind a wagon. 

Elissa, by the grace of the Maker Himself, had never been on the opposite end of one of these things' charges. It was always Alistair, without fail, and he had gotten damn good at baiting them into Sten's greatsword. 

It was so large. She had avoided them in the past, always unsure of how exactly to kill it, but the boys made it look so easy, so she should probably be able to handle it. 

Right? 

It lowered itself to the ground, so Elissa did as well. Her body screamed in protest. It bellowed before rushing, and at the last possible second, Elissa rolled to the side, hopping up on her feet just in time to watch it ram into a building. 

Wood splinters the size of its arm flew everywhere. Elissa fell to her knees and ducked behind her shield. A rather large piece of wall slammed into her, but she kept her footing. 

And no less than a second later, Elissa was launched off her feet, slapped aside like a ragdoll by the ogre's fist. 

All of the air in her lungs was expelled by the force of her back slamming into stone. As her head snapped off the brick, she saw stars, and when she fell, she heard thunder in her ears. 

Something in her chest hurt,  _ bad _ . She couldn't breathe. She was stuck under a slab of Maker knows what. 

And just as quickly as the weight fell on her, it was lifted off. Faintly, Elissa heard it fly into another shop, but that was the least of her worries. She felt the ogre's hand lock around her leg and lift her into the air. It dangled her at head level, beady eyes inspecting her face as she tried not to scream.

It roared, spitting disgusting saliva all over. Higher she went, now high enough to probably break something if dropped at the wrong angle. 

Past its shoulder, Elissa could see the boy, staring at them in horror, and something in her clicked. 

He was just like she was. Trapped in a body that wasn't truly hers, and yet was. She had known he was a mage, but seeing him… Elissa wasn't sure how to explain it. She could see it with him, just like she could see it with Wynne. Wynne was a little different, but in Fenix, she could see herself. 

This ogre was going to kill her. She could see its bulging muscles preparing to throw her again, probably harder than the first time, probably hard enough to crack her skull. And if that didn't kill her, there was a good chance she would get impaled on one of the wooden panels. 

She heard it before she saw it. One single arrow, so dangerously close to the side of her head, but it would miss its mark. The ogre had moved a fraction of a second too fast for it to strike anything but its horn, and without hesitation, Elissa shot her hand out to grab the shaft. 

In that same second, she drove the arrow into the ogre's wrist, and it released her, crying out in pain. She hit the ground after readjusting herself and took the brunt of the blow to her back. 

Perhaps landing on the same thing she'd just broken wasn't the brightest idea, but hey, she didn't break an arm, at least. 

Another arrow, this time at a normal speed. It didn't miss, sinking into the ogre's throat, and the next thing Elissa knew, there was a hand around her arm. It yanked her upright. 

"Have you lost your mind?" 

Elissa blinked. The world was spinning and she couldn't really see very well, but it would be hard to mistake that fiery hair and that stupid accent. 

Leliana released her to fire another shot and Elissa staggered away, vision still coming in and out of focus, to search for her sword in the rubble. Lifting the stone it was under was impossible with her shield on her arm, and she hastily removed it, fingers fumbling. It wasn't as fast as she thought. 

Elissa heaved, managing the strength to throw the mortar aside. Her sword, thankfully, looked to be undamaged aside from a few scratches along the blade. 

A guttural cry sounded from one of the alleyways and Leliana redirected her fire there. Another cry, this time of surprise, and the next thing Elissa knew, the ogre had slapped Leliana with as much ease as it had herself. 

Elissa scrambled in a panic. She could feel that pool of energy swirling in her belly, and as quickly as it came, it was gone. She formed a solid ball of flames and shot it into the alley at the approaching darkspawn. 

With whatever willpower she had left, she launched herself at the ogre, begging for her body to do as demanded. She jumped, extending her arm back, and then drove it forward as she collided with the beast. It howled as it toppled over backwards, fists reaching up to pull her and her sword off of it. Elissa pulled the blade back out and felt it twitch, and she brought it back down again, this time driving it into its skull. Black blood squirted over her sword and face. She had to resist the urge to vomit. 

Elissa sagged, arms heavy, as the pain in her side redoubled. It was probably a rib. There was no way she hadn't broken something. 

Across the street, Leliana was slowly standing. She looked dazed and there was a long scrape on her arm, but she looked okay. Elissa let go of a breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding. Relief. 

Her hand instinctively went up to her injured side as she looked around wildly for Fenix. He was in his original hiding spot, hand wrapped cautiously around a wagon wheel. 

His eyes were so wide as she staggered over to him. He looked frightened. It was understandable. If Elissa was his age and just watched two people get slapped around like ragdolls by a monster, she'd probably be scared too. 

She knelt in front of him after sheathing her sword. He regarded her heavily, inching back a little. 

"It's okay," she said. "You're safe now." 

His eyebrows furrowed together. "It was you, wasn't it?" 

Elissa didn't have to ask what he meant. She just nodded, and while she thought that might help him relax a bit, recalling the relief he felt when she helped him breathe, all it did was make the suspicion in his eyes redouble. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," Elissa said. She extended a hand. He just eyeballed her, shrinking further back behind the wagon. "I'm a Grey Warden. We protect people." 

He still looked unconvinced, so she tapped the griffon on her chest. She had to focus to refrain from wincing. 

"See?" 

"You could be lying like all the other shems," he snapped. 

Elissa sighed as her hand fell from her chest. "I won't hurt you. If I wanted to, I wouldn't have helped you catch your breath, remember?" His eyes narrowed and she got to her feet, looking back for Leliana. The bard had managed to stand finally, doubled over to catch her breath. Elissa looked back to Fenix. "Where's your father?" 

"Gone," he said, and she saw the faint beginning of his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "That...it…" His eyes went to the ogre's body as tears welled up in them. 

Elissa shook her head. "You don't have to say it." He looked back to her, suspicion still shining brightly in his damp eyes, as she reached into her pack. She pushed aside her canteen and found her small purse. There wasn't much coin in it—little more than two sovereigns, but it was better than nothing, and Elissa wouldn't need it after today. 

"Take this," she said, placing the pouch in one of his hands. "Go back to the dock and swim around the walls. You can swim, right?" 

Even if he couldn't, Elissa knew that thing inside of him would make him. It was awake now. She could see it looking at her from behind his eyes, feel the thing inside of her looking back. 

He nodded. 

"Go north, to Amaranthine, and take a ship. Find the Dalish. They'll take care of you." 

Probably teach him how to use his powers, too. It was more than Elissa could have ever dreamt of. 

He started to back away as Leliana joined them, bow planted in the dirt. They regarded each other for a moment, Fenix in nervousness, and Leliana in curiosity. 

"Do you hear them, too?" Fenix asked. He tapped his temple for emphasis. 

Elissa nodded. "It'll keep you safe." 

He looked at her again, truly. "It likes you."

And with that, Fenix was gone, ducking and darting between the houses with a speed Elissa only wished she could muster. 

Leliana put a hand on her shoulder. Elissa looked back at her. She could see the exhaustion in her eyes, in the way she held herself and leaned on her bow. Her eyes fell, though, to where Elissa's hand was shielding her body. 

"Are you all right?" 

Elissa just nodded, gritting her teeth. "Don't have much of a choice, do I? There's still an Archdemon."

Leliana looked over the houses to Fort Drakon. Smoke was rising from the top now. Elissa could hear it roar, see brief flashes of light as it spit fire. As her gaze returned to Elissa, she thought she saw a twinge of sadness there, but it was quickly gone, replaced by a masterfully blank expression. 

This wasn't easy for either of them. 

"Come on, then," Elissa said. She inhaled deeply, forcing what little energy she had into her side in a feeble attempt to heal whatever damage was there. "We'll have to face that thing soon enough. What's the point in keeping it waiting?" 

Leliana hesitated, looking like she had something to say, and Elissa felt her heart stop for only a brief moment. But just like that, the urge disappeared from Leliana's face, and she nodded. 

"After you, Warden." 

Something in the empty tone of her voice, normally filled with laughter and amusement, made Elissa wish she could just have this over already. She supposed, however, the faster she got to the Archdemon, the less time she had to feel guilty. 


	49. Chapter 49

Her lungs were positively _screaming_ at this point. There was so much smoke. Bodies of humans, elves, dwarves, darkspawn, all of them were burning. Elissa's eyes would've been watering had they not been dry from all the smoke. She felt like...like sand again. She had not felt so dry and disgusting since fleeing Highever.

Maker, it was like everything was coming full-circle. First the fire and the smoke, then the dryness and blood, and now the sand. She _hated_ it. She hated how dry she felt. It was awful.

Thankfully that was the least of her worries. There were darkspawn scattered about the thick clouds, mixed in with people she knew, allies, and people she loved. It was dangerous to blindly swing at every shape she saw, but it was so difficult to distinguish a person from darkspawn.

When they'd first gotten through the tower, Elissa had plowed into Aedan thinking he was a hurlock. She was relieved to see him. It was good. He was alive. That much she would be grateful for. Leliana was here. She knew both were as safe as they could possibly be right now. At least they were nearby. If they got hurt, she could protect them.

A rather large hurlock came charging for her. Elissa barely had the energy or willpower to move her body, sidestepping out of the way as the alpha brought its sword around at her chest. She had left her shield in that pile of rubble, unwilling to possibly restrict herself from casting spells with it on. This wasn't the first time since she made that decision that she regretted it.

She regretted leaving it behind in the Deep Roads. She regretted it now, too. Perhaps she should learn how to fight without it, but then, that would be a waste, anyway, would it not?

As their swords locked, another hurlock came for her, and Elissa had to disengage from the alpha to avoid being run through. The hurlock reverted, switching stance to chop for her arm, but Elissa stepped away and into the alpha, slapping aside its shield to smack it in the face with her pommel. It staggered and she spun, bringing her sword up as the hurlock brought its down. The force of the blow jarred her arm, but she ignored the pain and pushed past, knocking the weapon aside.

Her muscles were straining. Every single one cried as she overused them, and she felt her body draining itself of the energy she used to cast spells to push onward. She felt invigorated, pain washing away like dirt in the rain, and it was such a relief. She needed that.

That sixth sense she possessed spun her as the alpha struck at her exposed back. Elissa met steel with steel and with a simple push, threw it off balance. A quick swipe of her sword, and its head rolled lamely to the ground.

Growing up, Elissa had thought decapitating someone was easy. Knights spoke of it like it was effortless, but now that she was an adult, she knew it was hard. You had to throw every ounce of strength into your sword to cut through a spine.

Elissa didn't have the energy to do so as they battled their way up the tower, but she did here. It was such an oddly wondrous feeling. Her muscles demanded release, demanded to _move,_ and Elissa would be foolish to ignore them.

The hurlock slammed its shield into her chest, knocking the wind out of her, but she remained on her feet, instead locking her fingertips around the lip of the twisted metal. She gave a sharp yank and stepped to the side, allowing the darkspawn to stumble forward. In the same motion, Elissa drove her sword between its shoulders.

Oh, did it feel good to reset like this. She was glad it saved itself for this moment. She was glad she didn't expend herself so thoroughly that she had to need this. This was the perfect time for it.

Somewhere in the smoke, a dragon lurked. A dragon that she would kill. A dragon she would save her brother from wasting his life on. A dragon she would save Ferelden from dying to. Killing this dragon would be her redemption. This would be how she changed who she was.

And who knows? In whatever afterlife there may be, Elissa might even be able to apologize to her parents. Yes, that would be nice. She could tell them she loved them. She could tell her mother she appreciated every stupid lesson she ended up not needing. She could tell her father she appreciated his protection. She could tell them how much she loved and appreciated everything they tried to do for her. She could tell them she was sorry.

Yes, Elissa would be okay with dying if she could have that. She could tell them they were wonderful people that didn't deserve her resentment. She could give them the love they deserved.

Some part of Elissa knew that they knew. Some part knew they were sorry. Some part knew they wished life could've been different for their entire family.

Elissa wished they could've run away. All five of them. Her parents, Fergus, Aedan, herself. She wanted nothing more than to redo everything. She wished she could go back and tell them that. She wished she had told that ghost of her father in the temple she was sorry.

Yes, this would be a good way to go out. She could live with that. Her brothers would mourn her, sure, but they would move on. Aedan had Anora and an entire kingdom to look forward to and love. Fergus would have Highever and someday, a new wife and new family. She could give that to them.

The Maker could give her that much, right? He could forgive her for all the sins she had committed. He could forgive her for being the way she was. After all, He gave her someone to love. Couldn't He give one last thing so she could go in peace? She hoped so.

All she had to do was find that damned dragon and kill it. Then her little family could move on and live their lives. They could prosper. They could forget about her and be happy.

At the end of the day, that was all Elissa wanted. For her brothers and Leliana to be happy. She was willing to die for that, she thought.

Elissa pulled her sword free from the shriek she'd been dueling. Another came, but she dispatched it with a flick of her wrist. She watched in mild fascination as the ice she'd shot at it rapidly encased it. Magic had always been a difficult aspect of her life, but it came so naturally now that it almost made her wish she wasn't going to die.

She was capable of so much. This elf that needed her as much as she needed it, they could do so many great things together, and she was almost sad her time with it was coming to an end. Elissa had never truly gotten to understand her and vice versa; Elissa didn't even know if she had a name. She had been content to let her believe she was a spirit of hope, but Elissa didn't believe that was her name. It was probably another lost memory like everything she had shown her.

Elissa felt sorry for her. She could feel the elf—Hope—express something similar.

The Archdemon roared a thunderous boom, and only a few feet ahead, she saw its shadow as it breathed fire on a group of unsuspecting combatants. Allies and darkspawn alike were burnt to a crisp in a matter of seconds, but as soon as the light from the flame subsided, Elissa couldn't see the dragon again.

Frustrated, she brought her arm in towards her chest, and when she threw it back out, the clouds and smoke exploded. The spell drained her, but she could see again, and so could everyone else.

Several elves were close to her. They looked around in brief amazement before the darkspawn began attacking, and now, she had the dragon's full attention.

In its eyes, Elissa saw an ancient wisdom and awareness she never wanted to see again. It knew she was its biggest threat. It knew what that spell took out of her. Elissa couldn't help doubling over in exhaustion, but she didn't even have the chance. With one, quick swipe of its tail, the dragon swept her off her feet and sent her flying.

What she hit, she didn't know. All she knew was it hurt. Somewhere, Elissa thought she heard Aedan cry out for her, but she wasn't sure. Her head was throbbing, and when she tried to lift herself, she collapsed.

Elissa knew she passed out. It was brief, mere seconds, but Maker, did she wish she could go back to that state. She hadn't felt a thing for those precious seconds and it was delightful.

With that brief burst of energy gone, Elissa could feel every wound and every injury she had sustained. She could feel her knuckles bleeding through her gloves—there were ten small pools of blood soaking the leather. She'd skinned them at some point, either when she rolled across the cobblestones here, or when she did down on that street.

Her chest was practically sobbing with pain. She couldn't expand her lungs to breathe and something sharp was stabbing into the rib she had sloppily healed earlier. It took every ounce of strength she had to fumble for the straps of her chestplate. There were four of them and she had to undo each and every one before she felt any form of relief.

Her right arm wouldn't work. It had been snapped, crushed just like her chestplate had been. It wouldn't work, so she was forced to fumble and scramble with her left. Maker, did it feel wrong.

Elissa tried to stand, pushing up to her knees, and then slowly rose, but her legs buckled, and she fell again. She barely caught herself with her one hand, letting out a soft whimper as her impossibly dry eyes tried to cry.

She was so tired. She lifted her head, barely seeing as her brother and Alistair tried to take the Archdemon on themselves, but the latter had to pull Aedan out of the way as it tried to torch them. Several wounds in its side were bleeding, but all were small, practically inconsequential. The only damage of note was its torn wing, and she doubted that would stop it for long.

Elissa let her arm fall. Her head hit the ground, but she didn't feel it. Everything was so far away, and as her eyes closed, she thought she saw Sten turning one of the massive ballistae on the dragon.

_That was it!_

Elissa barely recalled the dream she'd had of this battle. She hadn't been looking at the wounds on the dragon then, only a lame passenger in her own body as it carried out the actions set before it, but she saw it now. Sten had hit it, hadn't he? He wouldn't miss. She could see the bolt sticking out of its hide. She could remember the blood and how drained it had looked.

Elissa forced her eyes to open, but it was too late. She had missed the shot. It must've struck, though, because the dragon roared in pain, lashing out with both fire and tail before collapsing.

She couldn't see Aedan. Where was he?

No, focus. Again, she tried to stand. She looked for where she knew her sword would be, forced her fingers to wrap around the hilt. The leather felt good in her grasp, but foreign. This wasn't her dominant hand.

The world felt slow even though she knew she was too exhausted and beaten to be using any sort of magic. Elissa had already taken these steps before, trudging and practically begging her legs to go. She knew how many it would take.

She tripped over that same stupid bow, stumbled right into the dragon's massive skull. She fell on it. She could feel its eye open as it looked at her, regarding her coolly.

That gaze was unnerving. It disturbed her, but then, she didn't have to look the Archdemon in the eye, did she? All she had to do was kill it.

It would all be over, just like that. No more creepy eyes, no more pain. It would all just...cease.

The last thing she heard was Aedan screaming her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the double update, I just thought this chapter and the last would be better broken up. Originally it was gonna be one, but I changed my mind and did some last minute edits. Thanks for reading! :)


	50. Chapter 50

Leliana didn't know what she expected. She had seen friends die, because of her and in spite of her, but nothing compared to the weird somersault her heart did in her chest. It was a strange mix of nausea and heartbreak all at once, and if she was being perfectly honest, she wasn't even sure what hurt more—Aedan's broken scream or watching Elissa hit the ground.

He moved so fast. Leliana had never seen him move as quickly as he did now. There was a determined efficiency in the way he cut through the darkspawn between him and his sister, and she was glad she wasn't in his way. He shoved so many people aside with reckless abandon, practically throwing his sword as he reached her.

Leliana couldn't bring herself to move. She felt numb. After that initial wave of disbelief, she just...didn't feel anything.

She had known this was coming. She had known how this would end, and despite all of her prayers, it had happened anyway. No amount of wishing changed the outcome. No reassurances from Elissa could stop her from being afraid of this, and yet, here she was, still in utter disbelief.

The way Aedan fell to his knees beside her, scooped her up as if she was the most precious thing in the world, it made the oddly numb pain all the worse.

Elissa had been her best friend. They had been able to talk about anything, or at least, Leliana had. Elissa would always listen so intently, perfectly happy to just _listen_ and be acknowledged. Their relationship had never been ideal, or even made that much sense, but it persisted, and Leliana was so grateful for it she could have cried.

Elissa never asked Leliana for anything. She didn't even ask Leliana to love her. It had just happened somewhere along the road and Leliana never stopped to question it.

If someone had told her when they'd first set out from Lothering that they would end up together, Leliana would have laughed at them. She wasn't silly enough to pretend otherwise. Elissa was an ass, stubborn and rude, and Leliana had purposely been annoying just to get a petty form of revenge.

But those same conversations meant to annoy soon became something she looked forward to. When Elissa eventually started participating, Leliana should've seen it coming. Elissa wasn't bad to look at, and when she tried, she truly was funny.

Under every unforgivably rough layer, Elissa was a good person and Leliana believed that with every fiber of her being. She would throw herself between her brother and an arrow without hesitation. She listened when Leliana needed to vent about her problems and offered somewhat skewed advice, but the effort was there. She was the one that backtracked to Redcliffe's village for the villagers. She risked her life to save some kid only a couple of hours ago.

She made the ultimate sacrifice to save her brother.

Leliana had never truly understood what went through Elissa's head at any given time. She was good at pretending she did, but Maker give her strength, was she bad at it. There was some inferiority complex and a deep resentment for her abilities, and probably some belief she wasn't worthy of love, but damn, Leliana couldn't figure it out for the life of her.

She would have liked to try. Understanding stuff like that took time, time they'd never get, and that realization was what really hurt.

There were still darkspawn on the roof. The way they moved, it was clear they were confused and unsure of what was happening. Without the Archdemon, they were nothing, and the humans, elves, and dwarves took them down effortlessly.

Leliana couldn't bring herself to care. Vaguely she was aware of her legs carrying her closer to Aedan, but she was so far away. She was so lost in her own head she couldn't remember collapsing beside him.

He was hugging her close to his chest. There was a strange calmness to his tears. If Leliana had just lost a sister, she would've broken down, but then, she wasn't crying now, and she had lost someone that meant more to her than any sister ever could.

No, she was. They were silent tears, not entirely different from Aedan's.

He sniffled and let out a shaky breath. His eyes, Elissa's eyes, found Leliana, and she had to force herself to look away from Elissa's face.

She looked so peaceful. It was sick. There was no crease to her brows. Her eyelids didn't flutter like when she slept.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Aedan choked.

It was happening, though, wasn't it? Elissa was gone, and Leliana could scarcely believe it. Just half an hour ago, she was urging Leliana to move faster because they _had_ to get here. Elissa _had_ to be the one to kill the Archdemon. She had _refused_ to let someone else take that responsibility.

Leliana should've stopped her. She should've said something, _anything,_ to get the other woman's attention. She should've told her how she felt. She should've apologized, or tried to change her mind, or fought harder, something, _anything_ —

She coughed.

Aedan stiffened and Leliana felt her heart stop. It was a cruel joke. It had to be. Something was playing a trick on them—

Elissa coughed again, squirmed a bit in his arms.

Leliana let out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. It came out like a strangled sob, and when her eyes opened and Aedan embraced her, Leliana fell back on her haunches. She had to cover her mouth with her hands to keep from crying any harder, but even then it was a challenge.

The relief was astronomical.

When it became painfully obvious Elissa wasn't refusing to return his hug, but unable, Aedan released her.

"How…?"

Her voice was music to her ears. Elissa was a woman of few words, but Leliana could listen to her talk for hours and would never tire. Whatever the Warden wanted to talk about, Leliana would listen. It did not matter. She could talk about dirt and Leliana would find it the most interesting thing in the world.

He swallowed, flicked his eyes to Leliana's, and then back to his sister. What that was supposed to mean, she didn't know, but she didn't care.

Elissa was alive. That was all that mattered.

When those green eyes refocused on her instead of Aedan, Leliana forced herself to let her hands fall. She smiled such a stupidly large grin. She was sure she looked crazy—grinning like a madwoman and still crying.

For a brief second, there was a hint of nervousness in Elissa's eyes, but when Leliana smiled, whatever worry was washed away.

She had never been so proud and so in love with someone in her life.

* * *

It didn't feel real.

It had been two weeks since the death of the Archdemon, and Elissa could hardly believe it. It felt strange not having something that needed done, or a place they needed to go, or a treaty they needed to hide behind. It felt wrong. She needed to go somewhere, do something, but instead, here she was, standing awkwardly off to the side while Aedan argued with some man.

Elissa worried she might go stir crazy. Aedan refused to allow her to go with Alistair and hunt down the remaining darkspawn. He _refused._ Elissa was a fully grown adult, and yet again, she found herself imprisoned by her own family.

How absurd was that?

Truth be told, Elissa didn't _want_ to go hunting darkspawn. She didn't want to go with Alistair or leave her brother's side, but she desperately wanted her own freedom. She wanted the freedom to come and go as she pleased. She wanted to be free to experience the world.

She hated this standing around. It was awful. It was _boring._ It had taken the last fortnight for her to realize it, but part of the reason she was so angry as a child was the lack of stimulation. There were only so many books to read, only so many guards and knights to duel, only so many servants and nobles to bed before a woman got bored, and Elissa had exhausted all of those things. There was only so much one could do when they were trapped inside, and eventually, the absence of entertainment could drive one mad.

Elissa felt she was only one more week of this shit away from becoming a lunatic. There was a fine line between sane and insane, and Elissa toed that line every damn day.

She wasn't listening to the conversation her brother was having. She didn't necessarily care, but they had been walking together, discussing...whatever it was that was on his mind. He hadn't let her speak since she'd woken up in his arms on Fort Drakon. The only words that came out of her mouth were "yes, brother" or "no, brother." If she tried to question him about _anything,_ it was like Aedan went into a panic.

Elissa decided it wasn't worth the trouble, but she had also decided early on that he knew how this happened. Her. Being alive. Killing the Archdemon was a death sentence, one she had resigned herself to, but she had survived.

It was only a matter of time before word spread to the other Grey Wardens. They would eventually come investigate the rumors, and they would find them to be true. It would be great if Elissa could explain to them how she was alive.

Then again, it would be even better if she wasn't anywhere in those Wardens' vicinity to begin with. She would be perfectly happy fucking off to Maker only knows where, to do Maker only knows what. She was sick of being tied down.

Deep down, Elissa knew if she pressed the issue, Aedan would wish her well and let her go. He just wanted her within arms reach. He just wanted to know she was safe, that this was real. She could understand that.

That didn't mean she had to like it.

Aedan's voice dropped to a whisper and suddenly Elissa's attention was on the conversation. The man was some sort of...something. Elissa had forgotten what exactly the man was responsible for.

After a few more minutes of bickering, Aedan passed the man a coin purse. He stood up a little straighter, huffed, and marched off.

"Well that was entertaining," Elissa drawled, yawning for added effect.

Aedan scoffed and shook his head. "Didn't Mother always say weddings were women's affairs?"

Elissa shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I zoned out at the part about wearing dresses. Or maybe it was the having children part."

"Yeah, I would've ran from that talk, too."

"That's because you're a man."

He laughed. "Men have children, too."

"You don't _carry_ them!" Elissa exclaimed. "Maker's breath, have you ever listened to any mother when she's complained about child birth?"

"Why would I do that?"

Elissa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "See, that's exactly my point."

Aedan laughed again. "I'm just fucking with you." Elissa's eyes rolled as she folded her arms across her chest, and Aedan waved a hand. "It's getting late and I think Anora wanted to have dinner together. Excuse me, please."

She nodded, stopping in her tracks to watch her brother disappear. As she stood, Elissa was struck by how strange this was. He was back to his usual self almost overnight. Responsible, kind. She could see it in his eyes when he said her name—Aedan was only a few steps away from being enamored with the woman.

Elissa wasn't sure how she felt about that, but if he was happy, so was she. It would be hard to forgive Anora's betrayal at the arl's estate, but Elissa would try. It would be hard to accept Aedan as anything other than her idiot brother. It was hard enough imagining him as an adult; she still remembered all the scrapes and bruises they got as kids, sticking their noses in places they didn't belong.

It was painful, knowing they were both about to go their separate ways. They had been inseparable since birth, and Elissa knew this was the crossroads. She was ready to go and live her own life away from Ferelden and the Chantry and its templars. Aedan was about to get married and become king.

All of it felt so rushed. Elissa could hardly remember the last two weeks. She could hardly remember when her ribs had healed, or when her arm had become functional. Wynne and her healing abilities were a godsend.

She could hardly remember what had happened to their companions, save Alistair. Loghain was off on some task for Anora, Sten was preparing for his journey home, Wynne had returned to the Circle, and Oghren had returned to Orzammar. The only ones not lucky enough to have somewhere to go were herself and Morrigan, and even the witch had vanished. No one had seen her since the battle. She was just...gone.

Some wild rumor was going around that Morrigan had died. Elissa knew better. That woman was so resourceful that it would be difficult for even the Maker Himself to smite her.

That only left one person, though, and it was the same person she was going to run away with.

Elissa didn't know where they'd go. Anywhere but here. Anywhere she could practice her magic in peace. Somewhere they could be left alone until the end of their days. That would be ideal. Elissa hated being around people and would be so glad for a reprieve.

Her things were already packed. Her room had been emptied of her meager belongings hours ago. Everything was in order except for one neatly folded envelope on the dresser. It was for Aedan. It had taken Elissa the past two weeks to write it, and even now, at the precipice, Elissa wasn't sure it said what it needed to.

What she needed to tell him couldn't be expressed with words. There was so much. So many things to thank him for, so many things to admire, so many things to be proud of.

They were calling him the Hero of Ferelden. She couldn't be prouder of him. He deserved this. All of the calm, all of the quiet. There wasn't anyone in the world who deserved it more.

Elissa wished she could explain it. She had started writing only to discard the letter moments later hundreds of times. Words were just never something she was good with, and it took several stolen moments with Leliana to really understand what she was trying to say.

She still didn't understand. There were so many feelings. It was sad. _She_ was sad.

Leliana didn't look anywhere near as pained as Elissa felt. That was good. At least someone would be in good spirits, and the Orlesian always had a way of lifting Elissa's mood.

The bard's expression fell rather quickly though. "What is wrong, Elissa?"

She looked back over her shoulder as Leliana passed her her pack. Few buildings towered over Denerim's walls like Fort Drakon, but those that did had visible damage to them. Gaping holes riddled towers, large chunks of stone and wood had been ripped away. Smoke still rose to the clouds from a few fires they couldn't hope to put out, and just had to let burn.

"This feels like goodbye."

Leliana arched an eyebrow and it almost made Elissa smile. She was so expressive. Elissa loved it.

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

Elissa frowned, and then shrugged. "I'm not sure what I want."

She felt Leliana's fingers fold into hers. "That's what we're going to figure out, no?"

Elissa returned her gaze to Leliana. There was something there, in her eyes. Relief, maybe? Excitement?

She nodded, swallowing deeply. With one final glance to Denerim, they were off, and Elissa couldn't help feeling relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I never thought I would finish this story (I have a bad habit of doing that on a certain other fanfic site >.>) I do plan on adding to this at some point in the near future, but it'll be a separate work. For now, thank you so much if you made it this far, and stay safe and healthy!


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